Tricking the Past
by ladyklee
Summary: The saga of the youngest Cousland family member, Serena, who would eventually become the fabled Hero of Ferelden. Longing to reconcile her past and present, she has no where to look but the future. Chapter 85 - Hope, now up!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** The Dragon Age universe elements used belong to Bioware, I just borrow them for fun. My intent with this story is the illustrate a fuller life of the Human Noble Female than you obviously see in the games. Her connections to her family, companions, and how these people shaped the decisions she made throughout the journey.

Chapter 1 - _A Simple Request_

Serena parried a quick blow from Ser Samuell before flinging her dagger into one of the posed dummies across the practice yard. "Thought you'd backstab me, did you, darkspawn filth?" she shouted at the dummy, to the knight's obvious amusement. Spinning swiftly on her heel, she landed her second dagger into the 'heart' of another dummy.

She looked up quickly, noticing a figure in an upstairs window staring down at her. Someone with dark hair and a beard she didn't recognize. Perhaps one of the guests her mother had warned her would be coming today? She couldn't pinpoint who it was before she heard Samuell calling to her a few feet away and her attention snapped back to the training session.

"Excellent toss, but now you are without a weapon, my lady! And there is still the final darkspawn to deal with, I'm afraid." Indicating himself, Samuell pressed his advantage, and brought his sword around to swing at her as she feigned right and rolled, sliding easily under his blade.

"I am _never_ without a weapon, Ser!" Pulling a third, albiet much smaller dagger from the side of her boot, Serena charged toward the nearby stone wall, taking a few running steps and flipping up and over the knights head, landing at his back, the blade now pressed to the chink in his armor. She looked up at the window again, but the dark figure was gone. Turning her attention back to the knight, she shouted. "Do you yield? I have you at quite the disadvantage, dear knight."

"I yield, my lady." Samuell smiled broadly, happy to have such an enthusiastic training partner for the day. The youngest of Castle Highever's knights, it was rare someone would challenge him for an afternoon's duel, as most of the more seasoned knights preferred to take their 'practice' matches to Highever's main fighting arena in the middle of the city, where any manner of noble lady would fawn over them. Samuell, however, found his practice sessions with the Teyrn's daughter pushed him much further than any duel against his fellow knights. She knew how to fight dirty.

"My lady, if you don't mind me saying, you have become quite formiddable with those blades of yours these past few months. Our practice dummies will need all new stuffing come the spring." He pulled one of her daggers from the poor slumped dummy, sawdust bursting from the hole in its chest. "Although I am thankful you skewered this poor sap rather than me."

"Oh, Samuell, you have to get out of that armor occasionally. You can't possibly hope to best me while stuck in that cage." She ran a hand over his gleaming armor, he must have polished it just this morning. "Although it is quite fancy, with the city crest and all." She fingered the two crossed spears over a single dew drop on his breastplate. "I bet all the ladies swoon when you walk into the market, don't they?"

The knight cleared his throat awkwardly, hoping his face didn't reveal his blush too much. "My lady, I- er, I don't- uh, I don't spend much time in the market anymore. There is a lot to do around the castle and... patrolling the grounds," he finished lamely.

"Too busy practicing with me, eh?" Serena smiled, but her bright blue eyes were serious. "I do appreciate it, you know. That you take the time to work out with me." She held one of her daggers, idly spinning it about in her hand. "I'd be absolute rubbish with these if it weren't for you and Ser Gilmore. Sometimes I think the Maker himself sent you two to me."

"My lady, you compliment me too much. Surely the other knights would take you in a practice fight if you asked them." Ser Samuell began picking up the practice dummies and Serena followed suit, dragging the second along behind him.

"But I don't like to ask them! They're not nearly as fun as you, Ser," she quipped. "I would have _never_ gotten to try that flip out, for one. They all worry about me too much." She replaced the small dagger in her boot and put on a mocking air, her voice high pitched. "My lady, you are the Teyrn's daughter! I cannot allow you to hurt your dainty bits! Plus, you're all made of lady business, surely you could do better upstairs sewing a new ruffle for your dress?" Serena made a face at the knight. "You don't treat me like a silly girl."

"My lady, with those blades, I would hope not." The knight pulled one of her daggers from the other dummy. "You wouldn't want to forget these in the shed." He handed it to her. "These are silverite, aren't they?"

Serena grinned. Her daggers were her most prized possession, even over her warhound, Peanut. The finest silverite, and dwarven made, they were a gift on her 16th birthday from her father, Teyrn Bryce Cousland, a few years ago.

"Ah, my first love," she intoned, sliding the daggers into their sheaths at her belt. "Mother was furious, of course, even though if you tried to pull that bow from her side she would have an absolute fit. Father told her it was high time I had a weapon of my own, lest all this gorgeousness and deadly skill go to waste," she said, gesturing mockingly to herself.

"I think you are beautiful with or without the blades, my lady," Ser Samuell commented softly. He blushed again, the dark roots of his hair standing black against his reddening skin.

"You are too sweet," Serena said with a small smile. "Why can't Mother marry me off to you? We could ride off and fight the darkspawn together."

The knight chuckled. "If only I were so lucky, my lady. But the Maker has other things in mind for me, I'm afraid." He looked out past the practice yard to the stables beyond, his eyes cloudy with thoughts of the uncertain future before him. Already servants and other knights could be seen, readying their horses and equipment. "I'm to move out at first light in the morning with Arl Howe's men, and your father."

Serena followed his gaze and frowned slightly. "Yes, I'd heard about that. I wish I could ride with you all. Father says those darkspawn wouldn't know what to do with me!"

"Indeed they wouldn't, my lady. You are a force to be reckoned with, certainly." Samuell shook himself from his watch and turned to Serena, purposefully avoiding her steady gaze. "Let's get these last bits back in the shed, eh?"

Stuffing the dummy into the equipment shed, Serena sighed as she moved to heft the last large practice dummy from the yard. She longed to keep bashing at them for awhile longer, but her mother had explicitly stated that guests would be arriving in the early afternoon for a large banquet tonight, and to prepare for tomorrow's ride out. Maker have mercy if she showed up to dinner with sweat pouring down her face.

"Oh, Mother would have my head on a platter for sure," Serena mumbled, tucking the third and final dummy into the large wooden shed the soldiers used to store the castle's training equipment. Her training partner nodded his thanks for her help. "If I don't see you again before you leave, Ser-" she paused, not sure whether to continue. She popped up on her toes and gave the knight a quick kiss on the cheek. "May the Maker bless you."

The knight blushed again, putting a gloved hand to his cheek. "May the Maker bless us all, my lady," he replied with a quick nod. Running his sword back into the sheath at his back, Ser Samuell turned to head into the knights quarters. Serena watched his back for awhile, noting the quick spring in his step with a smile.

Strolling back into the castle, Serena absently wiped the saw dust on her daggers from the dummies onto her leather jerkin, her mind still turning over the sight of the men packing their horses. Passing the main hall, she noticed her Father standing with two other men she didn't immediately recognize. "These better not be the guests Mother was talking about here already. I haven't even washed my face..." She grimaced as she put a hand to her cheek. A thick lock of hair was stuck to the side of her face by sweat. "Oh, gross."

Serena peeked around the corner, hopeful she could sneak past without her Father's notice. She was in absolutely no state to say hello to strangers, with her hair a mess and her face looking like she scrubbed it with dirt. Straining, she could hear his voice coming from the end of the main hall. "I trust your troops will be here shortly-"

"I expect they will start arriving tonight," replied another man. He sounded vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn't quite put a face to the voice. Cold and haughty, the man was clearly a noble of some sort. "We can march tomorrow as planned. I apologize for the delay, my lord. This is entirely my fault..." Serena quietly snorted. He sounded anything but apologetic.

"No, no. The appearance of the darkspawn in the south has us all scrambling, doesn't it? I only received the call from the King a few days ago, myself." Bryce Cousland was a handsome man, even with the swaths of gray coming into his dark chestnut hair. Serena put a hand to her own hair, the same color as her father's. She had his same bright blue eyes as well. He had said many times that while her and her older brother Fergus took after their mother mostly in looks, Serena alone of the two siblings had his eyes.

"I'll send my eldest off with my men. You and I will ride together tomorrow, just like the old days," her father continued to the haughty man. Serena wracked her brain to try to remember his name. Arl... Howde? Howell? Howe! That was it. Her mother had been trying to set Serena up with his youngest son, Thomas, just last year, to near disastrous results. The boy was very handsome, if a bit stuck-up. Her father's lands, Amarathine, were the treasure of Ferelden, however, so she supposed some of his obnoxiousness came from simply growing up in the city.

"True," Arl Howe was saying. "But we both had less gray in our hair then, and we fought _Orlesians_, not... monsters..."

Serena's father laughed. "Orlesians! Darkspawn! Is there really much of a difference? At least the smell will be the same."

Well respected by all, Bryce Cousland was one of the two last Teyrns in all of Fereldan, along with the King's uncle, Teyrn Loghain of Gwaren, in the southeast. Serena watched her father pace the hall somewhat restlessly. He looked so tired, despite his joking tone. Leaning a bit further in, she must have caught her father's eye as he turned to face her.

"Ah, there you are, pup. Come in here, I would like you to meet someone." Her father gestured to the Arl. "Howe, you remember my daughter?"

Drats. Apparently luck was not with her today, it would seem. Her father seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to his young daughter anyhow, he always knew when she was about. She wiped her face quickly with the back of her hand, hoping she was wiping some of the dirt away instead of just smearing it around, and followed her father's voice into the main hall.

"Hello, Father. Arl Howe." Serena nodded her head slightly, hoping her she didn't look as grubby as she felt.

"I see she's become a lovely young woman. Please to see you again, my dear." The Arl smiled at her, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. Serena absently noted his bottom teeth were crooked.

"Is your family here, Arl?"

Howe shifted slightly at the mention of his family, but recovered quickly. "Oh, oh no. I left them in Amaranthine, well away from the fighting in the south. They do send their best wishes, though. My son Thomas asked after you, of course." There was that strange half-smile again. Serena wondered if he was mocking her in some sly way. "Perhaps I should bring him with me next time."

"Tell Thomas I say hello," Serena said, plastering her own fake smile on. "He must be... 15? 16 now? I remember he was a few years younger than me."

"As you get older, those years make less difference. A lesson often hard won," Howe replied.

"I doubt she'll be receptive, Howe. You remember how Eleanor tried to push them together, oh, last year, wasn't it, pup?" Serena nodded and her father continued. "My fierce girl has her own mind these days, Maker bless her heart."

The Arl was nodding his head, in agreement or in something else, Serena wasn't sure. "Hmm, no doubt about that. Your daughter certainly has some more... roguish qualities." He eyed what Serena was sure were the smudges on her face. "How... unique." Well, if he was looking for a dainty noble girl for his Thomas, he wouldn't find it here, that was for sure.

"How is your older son, Arl Howe? And Delilah?" Serena remembered the boy being a few years older than her, but unlike his little brother, he was very skilled with a bow. She hadn't seen him in at least 2 years, however. Perhaps he had married, she thought. He was getting to be around that age.

Howe shrugged, as if his other children didn't hold nearly the same interest as Thomas. "Nathaniel is doing well, I suppose. My wife received a letter from him not long ago. He is in the Free Marches currently, while my daughter spends most of her time in Amaranthine now. I will tell her you asked after her, my dear."

Her father turned to Serena once again. "At any rate, pup, I summoned you in here for a reason. While your brother and I are both away, I'm leaving you in charge of the castle."

Serena hoped her face didn't flush. "What? I-" She stopped and tried to force a smile. She needed to help out as much as she could, even if it was just glorified babysitting. "Of course, Father. I'll do my best."

Her father beamed at her. "That's what I like to hear. I know you'll do an excellent job." He seemed to notice her slightly crestfallen face. "You know, pup, if it were up to me, I'd have you riding off with us, but your mother would kill me if I let you go. She's already twisted into knots about Fergus and me going. But keep in mind, this is no needless task, I ask you to take a great responsibility to keep this castle secure and all within it safe. Only a token force is remaining here, Ser Gilmore and Bryant and a few others, and you must keep peace in the region. You know what they say about mice when the cat is away, yes?"

"Yes, Father. Of course. If that's all, I should go wash up, you know how Mother gets-" Serena started to turn when her father stopped her with a wave of his hand.

"One moment, there's also someone you must meet." He turned to one of the nearby guards, addressing him. "Please, could you show Duncan in?" The guard nodded and left the hall, returning quickly with a broad shouldered man with dark hair and a beard. Serena stared at him. Was that the man she'd seen in the window earlier during her training with Ser Samuell?

The large man, Duncan, wore light armor over a red tunic, a griffon blazing across his chest. He had two weapons strapped to his back, a long sword and long dagger. Serena eyed the dagger eagerly, wondering if it compared to hers. And why was he here at all? The griffon in particular nagged at her... where had she seen it before?

"It is an honor to be a guest within your hall, Teyrn Cousland," Duncan said. His voice was low and somewhat grave, like he was used to giving bad news. Or maybe receiving bad news. If Serena was intrigued about Duncan, Arl Howe looked positively disturbed to see him. Or perhaps annoyed seemed like a better word for it. Did he know him from somewhere?

"Your Lordship, you didn't mention that a Grey Warden would be present," Howe said. A Grey Warden? What did she know about the Grey Wardens? They were an old order, and they were founded to battle the darkspawn centuries ago. Yes, that must be why Duncan is here, to ride with Fergus and my father, Serena thought. She wondered if they still rode the griffons into battle, like from the stories her tutor, Aldous, used to tell her. Probably not, but she smiled when she glanced at the griffon on his tunic again.

"Duncan arrived just recently, Howe, unannounced," her father replied. "Is there a problem?"

"Of course not," said Howe, smoothing his already perfectly combed hair. "But a guest of this... statue... demands certain protocol. I am... at a disadvantage." Bryce Cousland narrowed his eyes, but said nothing, instead turning back to Serena. So her father had sensed Howe's suspicious behavior, too, Serena noted with an inner smile. Glad I'm not the only one who thinks he's acting strangely.

"We rarely have the pleasure of seeing one in person, that's true," her father said. "Pup, Brother Aldous taught you who the Grey Wardens are, I hope?"

Serena smiled at Duncan, nodding. "Yes, Father. They're an order of great warriors. They swear allegiance to no country, but help every land in Thedas fight against the darkspawn threat." Oh, if Aldous could hear her now, she thought wickedly. He wouldn't accuse me of napping during his lectures.

Her father beamed proudly at her. "They are the heroes of legend, who ended the Blights and saved us all. Duncan is looking for recruits before joining us and his fellow Wardens in the south. I believe he's got his eye on Ser Gilmore."

Serena nodded. Ser Gilmore would be a fine addition to their ranks. He was one of Highever's best knights, and also very kind and a good teacher, as Serena knew personally. When Ser Samuell wasn't available, Ser Gilmore had always offered to practice with her in the yard. In fact, it was with him that they first created the darkspawn sparring game her and Samuell had engaged in earlier. Duncan must have seen that, though, Serena thought. I wonder what he thought of me?

As if he could read her thoughts, Duncan turned his dark eyes on her and smiled. "If I might be so bold, I would suggest that your daughter is also an excellent candidate, Teyrn Cousland."

Her father grimaced a bit at that, and shifted slightly to stand in front of Serena. She wondered if he realized it seemed like he was subconsciously trying to shield her from the Warden. "Honor though that might be, this is my _daughter _we're talking about..."

"After you return from this battle, perhaps, Father? You would be in charge of the castle again, and.. It would be good for me, I think, to put my skills to use for the order." Serena hadn't planned on saying this, but once it was out, she realized how true it was. She would very much like to join the order, fighting darkspawn alongside Duncan and the other Grey Wardens, sinking her daggers into their blackened flesh... She fingered one of her daggers longingly. That is, if she could get her father to let her, of course.

"You did just finish saying that Grey Wardens are heroes, old friend," Howe supplied.

"I've not so many children, Howe, that I'll gladly see them _all_ off to battle," Bryce huffed. He turned to Duncan again. "Unless you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription...?" Her father was honestly worried Duncan might try to steal her away into the Grey Wardens? Serena had to admit, the thought was a tempting one. She shook her head and refocused on the conversation.

"Have no fear," Duncan was saying. "While we need as many good recruits as we can find, I've no intention of forcing the issue." At that, her father visibly relaxed. Her turned to her and smiled, and though it was a weaker version of his earlier one, it still made her feel better.

"Pup, can you ensure that Duncan's requests are seen to while I'm gone?" he asked. Serena nodded, and her father continued. "In the meantime, could you find Fergus and tell him to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me? I believe he's in his chambers. We'll talk later."

"Of course, Father." Serena gave him a small hug and turned to go. She noticed Duncan was eyeing her, and she wished she'd had more time to talk to him, to question him about his visit, about the order, about everything! Ah well, if he was staying for a few more days after Fergus and Father left to test Ser Gilmore, she would have plenty of chances to corner him then without her father's prying eyes or ears.

Serena left the main hall to go find a good scrub cloth before relaying her father's message to Fergus. With my luck, she thought, more guests will have arrived at the castle before I even get to change out of my armor. With a sigh, she trudged up the castle steps to her room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2** - _A Knight's Tale_

She hadn't gone ten paces out of the hall before she heard the distinct clanking of heavy armor heading her way. A moment later, a tall red-haired knight appeared before her. "My lady, there you are! I have been looking everywhere for you."

That's it; she thought dejectedly, everyone in the entire castle is going to ask something of me before I can clean off my face. It was just going to be one of those days, apparently. She rolled her eyes before turning to the knight. "Hello, Ser Gilmore. How are you?"

"Very well, thank you. I apologize for my abruptness, my lady. Your mother told me the teyrn had summoned you, so I didn't want to interrupt." He gestured over his shoulder. "But, I fear your hound has the kitchens in an uproar once again." Serena could already hear a few barks coming from the direction he indicated. "Nan is threatening to leave."

"Did Peanut get into the larder again?" Serena asked. "And I wouldn't worry about Nan, she won't leave. I rather think she likes it when he gets in a mess, then she can let off a bit of steam for awhile." For a war hound, he sure loved to make a mess in the kitchen. He was always sniffing around, searching for scraps. Serena had named him Peanut after his fondness for them, she always kept a peanut or two in her pocket as treats- he would obey any command for one. Unfortunately, it still drove Nan crazy. Granted there weren't a lot of things in this world that didn't drive the old woman up the wall.

"I know, my lady, but your mother disagrees. She insists you collect the dog, and quickly. You know these mabari hounds. He'll listen to his mistress, but anyone else risks having an arm bitten off."

"Oh, nonsense. He's a gentle giant," Serena replied with a laugh. "I don't suppose you'd like to accompany me? I have some news for you." She started to head in the direction of the kitchens, and saw the knight fall into step right beside her.

"You know, you're quite lucky to have your own mabari war hound. Smart enough not to talk, my father used to say." The knight laughed, a low rumble that started in his chest. Serena tried to not notice how his eyes lit up when he laughed.

Maker, what is wrong with me today? First I go and kiss a knight and now this... I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, Mother said this was bound to happen. "You can't work around these handsome men for months like you do without something stirring up, dearest," she'd said. "How do you think I met your father?" Serena shook her head, annoyed at herself, and tried refocusing on what Ser Gilmore was saying.

"Of course, that means he's easily bored," the knight was saying. "Nan swears he confounds her just to amuse himself."

"I wouldn't be surprised if that were true, honestly," she said. "I should have brought him out to train with me this morning, I don't know why I didn't think of it." As the pair turned the corner and headed down a staircase, the barking intensified. "Maker's breath, I hope Mother can't hear this racket..."

"You were training again this morning, my lady? I wish you had gotten me, I could have used a good practice session." Ser Gilmore rested his hand on the blade at his side. "The teyrn told me there was someone here to see me."

Serena clapped, remembering Duncan. "Yes, of course. My apologies, Ser Gilmore, that was the news I had! A Grey Warden is here to see you as a potential recruit for the order!" She beamed at the knight. "Isn't that exciting?"

"Indeed, my lady! The Grey Wardens are a very old and noble order. I would be..." the knight paused, his face flushing slightly. "I would be honored to be counted among them."

"I think you would make a fine Grey Warden, Ser Gilmore. And who knows? Maybe sometime I could join you- that man, Duncan, saw me training this morning with Ser Samuell and said I would be a good recruit."

"Absolutely. The Grey Wardens would be fools to overlook you. You are easily the equal of any man, on or off the field. That I can attest to myself," he finished with a grin. Serena could feel herself

"Apparently they need as many as they can get, what with this darkspawn uprising," Serena said with a wistful sigh. "Who knows?"

The knight nodded thoughtfully at her words. "Yes, the order isn't as strong in Ferelden as other nations in Thedas. It was King Maric, actually, who allowed them to return. They had been previously exiled because of an attempted political coup centuries ago against the King." Serena hadn't heard this before, so she motioned at the knight to continue.

"As my father told me, over two centuries ago, there were two rivals for the throne- Arland, who eventually became King, and another, Arlessa Sophia Dryden, who lost the throne to him and was forced to become a Grey Warden as her punishment."

"As punishment? Why would becoming a warrior in an order like the Grey Wardens be a punishment?" Serena asked.

"I have heard the tests to become one of the Grey are very trying, and some do not survive. But Sophia flourished in the Wardens, much to Arland's chagrin I'm sure, and eventually became Warden-Commander of Ferelden. While more and more nobles around Ferelden began to see King Arland as a tyrant, they reached out to Commander Dryden for help, including your ancestor, the teyrn, my lady." Serena nodded at this. She was aware from her tutor, Aldous, that a few of her ancestors had rebelled against the throne in the past.

"Sophia used the Grey Wardens as her own personal army, and planned to completely overthrow the throne! However, King Arland's men ended up victorious after sieging the Grey Warden's fortress at Soldier's Peak for months. He had the order banished from Ferelden after that, and many Couslands and other nobles were executed for allying themselves with the Grey Wardens against him."

"It was only until King Maric allowed them back a few years ago that the order has been in Ferelden. Although I have heard King Cailan, Maric's son, is quite fond of the order, and is marching the King's army with them in the south to fight the darkspawn."

"Yes, that's what Father said," Serena replied. "The King's request came just a few days ago. So I suppose you're headed south regardless, hmm?"

"Actually, I am to stay behind here with the compliment of guards at the castle, although I would certainly like to join the Wardens, if possible. Can you imagine? Me? A Grey Warden! It would be everything I've dreaming of!" The knight cleared his throat, looking sheepish. His red hair fell into his eyes and he brushed it aside. "Of course, I shouldn't get ahead of myself. Pardon my outburst."

"It's quite alright, Ser Gilmore. Were I in your shoes, I wouldn't be able to contain my excitement, either."

The knight opened the door to the kitchens for Serena and she followed him inside. She could barely hear herself think over the din. Nan was shouting at two elven kitchen servants, as if the dog was somehow their fault, and Peanut could be heard barking sporadically from inside the larder. Had Nan barred the dog inside? Serena rolled her eyes. That dog...

"Get that bloody mutt out of the larder!" Nan shouted at the pair, furious.

"But, mistress! It won't let us near!" The female elf, Adney said, her head downcast. The male elf at her side, Cath, nodded, his eyes darting from the furious matron to the wooden larder door and back again. "I heard some strange scratching in there this morning, mistress," he added.

"If I can't get into that larder, I'll skin both of you useless elves, I swear it!" Nan puffed up again, but Ser Gilmore put out a hand to her.

"Err, calm down, good woman. We've come to help..." He looked to Serena for help, but before she could add anything Nan started to shout again.

"You! And _you_! Your bloody mongrel keeps getting into my larder! That damned beast should be put down!" She stomped her foot in agitation as Adney and Cath backed further away. Serena wished they wouldn't act so meek around Nan, it only encouraged her rage, as she had learned at a young age. Before she had grown, Nan had taken charge of Serena as her nanny.

"Sorry, Nan. I'll grab him," Serena said, her face blushing slightly. "But you know, he isn't a mutt. He's a pure blood mabari war-"

"A blight wolf is what he is!" Nan interrupted, her wrinkled face livid. "How am I supposed to work like this?" She turned to the two elves. "You two! Stop standing there like idiots! Those vegetables aren't going to garnish itself, now is it? I have a castle full of hungry soldiers and they aren't going to cook for themselves!"

"No, mistress. Of course not, mistress." The elves scrambled back to the hearth, Nan following them threateningly. She turned to Serena. "You just get that mutt out of here, girl!"

Serena rolled her eyes again at the old woman's back and beckoned Ser Gilmore to follow her into the larder. "Come on, or else he'll probably eat his way out of there..."

Opening the door, she found her hound stalking across the room, his nose pressed to the floor. Loud snuffling sounds filled the room as the hound paused by a large pile of sacks. "Better than the barking, at least," Serena mumbled.

She went to grab the dog's collar to pull him out the door, but Peanut promptly sat on his rear and refused to move. It was much like trying to push an oak tree over when the hound didn't want to move. "What is it, boy? Is there some treat in there you're fixing to steal? You know Nan wouldn't like that one bit, especially after I have it on good authority that Adney slipped you some pork bits just this morning." She turned to the knight. "He's a greedy thing, isn't he?"

Ser Gilmore surveyed the room with a sigh. "Look at this mess. How did he even get in here?" There were open crates and sacks all over the stone floor. The knight didn't envy whoever ended up cleaning it all up, but it certainly wouldn't be him.

Serena gave Peanut another shove towards the door before the dog let out a low growl. "Peanut! I am your mistress, and you will obey me!" Serena moved to grab the hound again before he pounced on one of the grain sacks. "That is for bread, you dozy dog! There aren't any treats inside!" She pulled a peanut from her belt purse and held it out, trying to entice the dog away. "See? Here." The dog ignored the peanut, however and continued eyeing the pile of sacks.

"Alright, alright," Serena said, relenting. "Get whatever it is you want from there and let's go. Nan will have a fit as it is when she sees the state of this room-" but before Serena could finish, an enormous black rat burst from the pile of sacks and ran at her, squeaking madly. "Ack!" she shouted, dancing back away from it. "Is this what you were on about, dog?"

With a low growl, Peanut bared his teeth at the rat, ready to pounce on it. Serena drew the daggers from her belt.

"Did you hear that?" the knight asked, his hand already pulling his sword from its sheath.

As if on cue, more rats scuttled into the larder, each as large as a cat and black as soot. They came from all sides, scooting out from under wine barrels and cabinets. Huge yellowed teeth bared, they sat up on their hind legs, as if to launch themselves at the three of them.

"Stand back to back," Serena instructed the knight as he moved into position, sword drawn. Peanut launched himself at a group of three, thrashing one about in his maul at his tossed it against the wall with a wet smack. A bloody smear marked the wall where the rat fell.

Serena swooped forward with her blade, cutting another rat in two, while her left hand skewered a third. Ser Gilmore ran another straight through, kicking it off with his boot before he slicing another in half.

"These damn things are huge!" he shouted over the squeaking, flailing rats. "How did they even get in here?" He chopped at two more, their bodies squirting blood all over his armor. "Oh, that one nearly got into my boot!"

Serena grabbed a nearby rat by its long leathery tail and swung it over her head and into the wall, smashing its skull. "They're so big, I bet if we shaved them, we could make a lovely coat!" she quipped, jamming her dagger into another rat's body as it lunged at her knees.

"Not a coat I'd ever want to wear, my lady," Gilmore replied, crushing another enormous rat under his boot. The rats innards squirted out both ends of its crushed body, as Serena looked away, gagging. "This is like the start of every bad adventure tale my grandfather use to tell!"

"Tell me about it," Serena said darkly. She stabbed at the last rat that popped through a hole at the base of the wall and turned to face the knight. "I think that's all of them, right?"

Ser Gilmore searched the area, kicking rat bodies out of the way with the toe of his boot. "Yes, my lady. Your hound must have chased them in through their holes." He turned to bang on the door, obviously hoping Nan could hear. "Looks like he wasn't raiding the larder after all!"

"Those rats were huge... I've never seen any like that around here." Serena wiped the blood off her daggers onto her already dirty tunic with a grimace. What's a bit more, she thought. Blood, guts, sawdust, dirt. I'm just a mess today.

The red haired knight crouched down, poking at another one of the bodies. "These are from the Korcari Wilds, I'll bet. You rarely ever see them this far north." He looked up at Serena. "Best not to tell Nan, she's upset enough as it is," he whispered. "But seeing as you've got your mabari well in hand, I'll be on my way. I'm to prepare for the arrival of more of the arl's men this evening."

"Thank you for the help, Ser Gilmore," Serena said as the knight nodded and left. Serena now turned on her hound. "Now, you..." The dog had a silly grin on his face, as if killing the rats had been a right fun game, and when could they play another? Serena rolled her eyes.

"Since you were such a good boy today, here's a peanut," she said with a toss of the nut to the hound. "Now, could you help me with all these bodies? Nan will have a fit if she had to clean rat bits off the floor, and I won't have her scaring the servants into doing it." Peanut woofed loudly in response, and began nosing the rat parts into a pile. "Good boy!"

"Are you about done in there yet?" came Nan's voice from the kitchen. Serena marched back out, Peanut on her heels.

"Ah, there he is, just as brazen as you please! Licking his chops after having helped himself to the drying meat, no doubt!" Nan crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed on the large mabari. "Bet it was tasty, wasn't it, mutt?"

"Actually, he was helping me clean up, Nan. There were a bunch of rats in the larder." She gave Peanut's head a quick pat. "Big ones, weren't they, boy?" The dog gave a happy bark.

"I bet that dog led those rats into there to begin with," Nan replied with a huff. "How else would they have gotten in?" She picked up a kitchen rag and tossed it at Peanut. "That's it, off with you. And don't you even start with the sad eyes! I'm immune to your so-called charms!" However at the dog's piteous whining, Nan slipped some bits of meat to him as Serena and Peanut made their way out.

"Maker, please, give me five minutes to take a bath before someone else comes at me with some request," Serena sighed, and gave Peanut another pat. "You, too, stinky. You could use a good scrub." The dog whined but followed Serena up to her room, its tiny tail tucked between its legs.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – _Demon Talk  
><em>

Quickly washing up, Serena wrung out her long hair between both hands, water droplets forming a tiny puddle on the stones at her bare feet. It certainly wasn't a proper bath with smelling soaps and all manner of scrubbing cloths, but really more of a long dunk in cold water with a bit of soap here and there.

Serena rubbed some of a elfroot lotion her mother had made into her cheeks and the skin on her chest and neck. "Good for wrinkles, dear, not that you'll have any soon," she'd said. Serena liked the cool tingling feeling it gave her skin, and the slight fragrance of the forest it carried. It made her feel wild, like she belonged outside, which she often felt, despite her noble baring.

Tugging on some thin leggings and a pair of soft wool-padded boots that tied to her knees, she made over to her wardrobe to pull on a suitable dress. Flipping through the clothes, she landed on a light blue dress, patterned with tiny flowers in an even deeper blue. Her mother had bought it in the Market District of Denerim last summer when they had visited for the yearly Landsmeet.

It was Serena's first time in the Market, since she had been to Denerim only twice before, when she was 13, for King Maric's funeral procession and then King Cailan's coronation 3 months after that. That had certainly not been a time to buy new clothes, but this time was simply perfect as her father spent the afternoon in the Palace chambers with the other nobles of Ferelden.

The woman running the stall had had many beautiful dresses, but she'd suggested this one in particular to her mother because it matched Serena's eyes exactly. "Absolutely beautiful, isn't it?" the woman had said, smiling fondly at Serena. "See the pattern here too, little cornflowers, just the same as your eyes, my dear."

Serena pulled the dress on over her leggings, letting the ruffled hem fall just above her knee. The sleeves were light and could roll up, easy to move in or adjust for fouler weather. Serena would never admit it to anyone, but she loved the ruffles at the hem, too. They were perfect for twirling.

Next, Serena picked up her belt, adjusting it around her waist so it didn't drag on the dress at all. Adding her small purse that clipped on, and her two daggers, all that was left was to do her hair. Crossing to her vanity, she picked up a shell comb and began tugging the knots out of her long curls. It was already starting to dry, which made the task more difficult. Confidant she had gotten all the knots out, she twisted the block of hair this way and that, undecided on what to do with it.

"Braids, maybe," she said to herself. "Or perhaps just one..." She picked up a pale ribbon from her jewelry box and tied it into her hair, twisting it in and out with her own hair into one big loose braid. That would keep it out of her face, but her mother wouldn't complain about her always making her hair look 'battle-ready', as she put it.

"Couldn't you wear it loose, just this once?" her mother would ask. "It looks so beautiful when you brush it all out."

"And always ends up in my mouth. Or even worse, in my food," Serena would retort. "Besides, you always wear your hair up in braids, Mother. Aren't you being a hypocrite?"

"Well, I'm old, dear," Eleanor had sighed. "That's what we mothers do. My hair is very nearly all gray, anyhow. If I still had some color up there, you better believe I would show it off."

Serena smiled at the thought of her mother, and picked up the silver locket on her vanity, clasping it around her neck. It was small, with the Cousland Family crest of two crossed laurels stamped into the metal on the front. Inside it held a small pinch of dried flowers that her father had picked and given to her mother on the day she was born. If she held it close, she could just barely smell the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle coming from inside.

The locket was rather plain compared to her other jewels, but it was one of her most treasured heirlooms, and she knew the sight of it would make Fergus smile, as he had a matching design on a ring he always wore.

"I still can't believe he's leaving for the south," Serena said to her reflection. "While I'm stuck here watching the chickens and making sure the castle doesn't burn down." She frowned at her reflection, sticking out her tongue. "Oh well, it won't do me any good to mope about it." She turned, gathering up her overcoat and left the room.

She turned to Peanut, who was still sitting beside her vanity. "Well? You coming with me on my grand chore or staying here?"

Her hound quirked his head to the side, a big dopey grin on his face. With a small shake, he turned around in a circle and lay down to nap.

"I guess that answers that," Serena said with a smirk. "You are the laziest dog, you know that?" Gathering up her overcoat, she quickly left the room.

Entering the large hallway that separated her rooms from Fergus', Serena paused for a moment, taking in the enormous stones that built her family's home. Tapestries hung along the hall, depicting scenes from the often-bloody history of the Couslands. For centuries, even before Calenhad the Great had united Ferelden itself, they had called Highever their home.

In one tapestry, Serena traced the delicate silver embroidery of a giant white wolf standing on its hind legs with one finger. A small group of shapes that represented an army stood facing the werewolf, their spears outstretched.

If she remembered the story correctly, it portrayed a scene from the Black Age during the lycanthrope plague, when her family had held only the title of "bann". It was then that her ancestor, Haelia Cousland, had gathered the other lords of the area together to drive the werewolves from their lands. It was that feat which had earned them the title of teyrn, and they had held it every since, one of the last two teynirs in Ferelden, in fact.

The next tapestry was a bright red, with a large gray castle struck by lightning. A lone figure with a crown stood at the foot of the tapestry, his sword held high over his head in victory. This one represented the battle between her family and Calenhad, as they had fought to maintain their independence from what would soon become a unified Ferelden. Their army had been defeated however, and her ancestor had sworn fealty to King Calenhad rather than lose the title to the Highever lands.

The third tapestry depicted many figures on their knees, and another figure with a black crown standing over them, sword drawn. A gray griffon weeping a single tear of blood stood silently in the background. Serena had never really paid attention to this one, but now that she looked at it closely, she realized it told the story Ser Gilmore had related to her earlier, about the Grey Warden rebellion at Soldier's Peak.

"Those must be my ancestors that King Arland had executed," Serena muttered, touching one of the piteously kneeling figures. She wondered who had survived the encounter, considering her family still held the teyrnir today, despite their rebellious ways.

The last two tapestries depicted the occupation of Orlais, and how the Couslands had sided with King Maric Theirin. He had been the son of the Rebel Queen Moira, directly descended from Calenhad himself, to fight the Orlaisian Emperor's puppet King Meghren. The tapestry was blue, with figures baring the Cousland family heraldy on their shields, storming the gates of Amaranthine, which had been under the control of Orlais at the time.

The other tapestry was of the battle of White River, which her father, Bryce Cousland, had fought alongside Rendon Howe, but to utter defeat. Indeed, they had been only 2 of fifty rebels who had survived the battle. A red river of blood ran along the side of two figures, one carrying a shield from House Cousland, the other of House Howe. Whatever Serena thought of Rendon Howe, it stood to note that he had been a good friend of her family for many years.

Shaking herself from her silent reverie, Serena continued across the hall, peeking into the front room of Fergus' chambers. "Fergus? Oh, dearest brother..." she called. "Are you in? I have a message from Father."

Serena noticed a candle burning at the writing desk, but otherwise the room appeared to be empty. About to turn around, a dark mop of hair popped up from behind the writing desk, startling Serena. "Aunt Sena?"

"Oren! Maker's breath, you scared me!" Serena grasped the doorframe and let out a huge breath of air. "How long have you been down there?"

"Not long. I'm sorry I scared you, Sena," Oren replied, his eyes downcast. Serena stepped forward and gave her nine-year-old nephew a hug. "Don't worry about it, I'm just, well, nevermind." She could never stay anything but affable around her young nephew, he just had a way of making her smile. He was also the only person in the world who called her 'Sena'. His nickname for her had stuck, ever since he was a baby and couldn't properly pronounce "Serena".

"What were you doing on the floor?" Serena eyed the ground around his feet. "You weren't collecting spiders again, were you? If I find one of those hairy things in my room, I swear I'll-"

"Oh, no, Sena! I was doing lines, see?" Oren pointed at the messy pile of papers on the desk. "Brother Aldous told me to do the... the Canticle of.." The boy struggled for the word, finally shrugging helplessly in defeat. "Of something. But then I saw this!" He pointed to the wall beside him, and Serena saw a large crack coming up from the floor.

"What's so interesting about that?" she asked. Although she could easily understand the appeal of even the most mundane things over copying lines of the Chant of Light, she hoped Oren wasn't doing anything that would end up getting her a lecture from his mother, Oriana.

It wasn't so long ago she had been doing the same herself. The castle's historian, and her and Oren's tutor, Aldous, was particularly fond of the longer passages in the Canticle of Threnodies. She wondered absently if that wasn't what Oren was supposed to be copying now.

"It's not the crack, it's the whispers," Oren replied, a secret sort of smile on his face. "Listen here, near the middle." He pointed to an area on the wall and scooted over so Serena could get down on her knees beside him. "Do you hear it?"

Serena closed her eyes and pressed her ear to the crack, hoping there weren't any spiders about to crawl out. Concentrating, she could hear... something. Were those voices? Echoes of something?

"You hear it, right?" Oren whispered, his ear to the wall as well. "I think its ghosts!"

"Ghosts? Oh Oren, I think it's probably just..." She leaned forward to listen again. The voices were indistinct, but surely it wasn't ghosts, Serena thought.

"Aldous told me there's ghosts loads of places, Sena. Any place people have died real horrible." Oren looked at the crack again, nervous.

"Oh, well that settles it then," Serena replied, placing a hand on Oren's shoulder. "Nobody has died here violently. Not in ages, anyway."

The boy still looked skeptical. "What about great grammy Amelia?" he whispered.

Serena narrowed her eyes. Her grandmother had died three years ago; Oren had been only six at the time, so he probably didn't remember any of the details. But grandmother Amelia had been in failing health for months until one day she simply fell asleep and didn't wake up again.

"Oren, grandmother didn't die violently, she just went to sleep. It was very... peaceful." Serena put her ear to the crack again, listening hard. The whispering was a bit louder now. It sounded like men's voices chattering to one another. "It's... I think it's the guards, Oren. Can you hear them now?"

Oren pressed his ear to the wall and Serena watched the excitement quickly fade.

Oh, Maker have mercy, Serena sighed inwardly. How did I get sucked into thinking there might actually be ghosts roaming the castle speaking to us through the walls? If anything, they'd probably have some fun and toss things about in our rooms. She put a gentle arm around her nephew. "We just... we let our imaginations get the best of us. It's probably Ser Gilmore and the other men staying behind at the castle."

Serena stood, pulling Oren to his feet as well. She glanced at the papers he had scattered across the desk. "What were you copying for Aldous?"

"It's the Canticle of..." Oren frowned, picking up the topmost sheet. "Eerie-diction," he finished.

" Erudition. Oh, I remember copying that many times," Serena said with a chuckle. She recited the lines from memory.

"_The first of the Maker's children watched across the Veil_  
><em>And grew jealous of the life<em>  
><em>They could not feel, could not touch<em>  
><em>In blackest envy were the demons born<em>."

She looked at Oren suspiciously, her hands on her hips. "So that's where all this ghost talk came from!"

Oren smiled sheepishly, shrugging his small shoulders. "Well, maybe," he admitted. "How did you remember all that, Sena?"

"Aldous must have had me copy those passages a hundred times a piece." She smiled, remembering the long hours she had spent at her own writing desk. "I think the Fade is very interesting. And bizarre."

"That's where we dream, right?" Oren asked.

Serena nodded. "Yes, while we sleep, our souls reside in the Fade, and we experience it as dreams." She paused, trying to think of a way to explain it better. "The Fade is always there, we just only seem to be able to sense it while we're not conscious, while we're dreaming. Mages can actually enter the Fade while awake, though, and they can talk to the spirits there."

"What... what about the demons?"

Serena considered this for a moment. "Yes, I suppose in the darker sections of the Fade, there are lots of demons. Brother Aldous says they are attracted to mages. They cannot escape the Fade on their own, so they try to make deals with them."

"What kind of deals? What do the demons want?" Oren was frowning, his green eyes narrowed. He had Fergus' eyes, like big shiny emeralds.

"Do you remember the passage? The spirits were the Maker's first children, before He created people. When the spirits saw that the Maker had moved on from the Fade to create new things, they became jealous of us, of people, and some of them were corrupted by that envy, and thus became demons. But the demons cannot leave the Fade without help, so they try to bargain with any mage they can find, to try to trade wealth or power in exchange for being released from the Fade."

"Is the Fade a bad place? Why do the demons want to escape it?" Oren ran his fingers through his hair; it was the same motion Fergus made when he was thinking hard about something. Serena silently marveled at how alike her nephew and her older brother were; it was a little like seeing Fergus as a nine-year-old sometimes. He is his father's son, she thought. "Sometimes when I dream, I see a tower in the distance. It's big and black."

"I have seen it, too, sometimes. I'm not sure what it is. Maybe everyone sees it. But no, the Fade isn't a bad place. It's just... different. The demons want to escape so they can harm us, they like to play tricks and take things that don't belong to them, and it's just their nature. They will offer many things in exchange for freedom." She thought for a moment. "I doubt the demons ever keep their word, though," she finished.

"I would never talk to a demon!" Oren said, his eyes flashing. "They sound evil!"

"I supposed it's harder than we think it is to resist them," Serena replied. "I don't know a lot about demons, but they can change form, appear as other things."

"Like people?" Oren asked. Serena nodded.

"They can make you think they're someone else. If one looked like... your mother, for example, wouldn't it be hard to say no to her?" Serena saw the worry cross Oren's small face and she put her hands on either side of his face, hoping her smile was encouraging. "Don't worry about that, though, Oren. You're so strong, you'd be able to see right through their tricks." She ruffled his hair, making him smile. "That's enough talk about demons for today, I think."

"Do you know when Father is leaving, Sena?" Oren asked.

"He's supposed to ride out tonight, with my father's soldiers," Serena replied. "Ser Gilmore and some of the other men are staying here with us, though."

"Do you think Ser Samuell will stay with them?"

"No, he told me he is to ride south in the morning with the Arl's men."

Oren gave Serena a searching look, as if he was trying to read something in her expression. "Are you going to miss him, Sena?"

"Well, if you aren't the nosiest nephew I've ever known…" Serena exclaimed.

"I'm your only nephew, Sena!"

"Still. I ought to trade you at the Master Hindan's armory. I'll get myself a newer nephew, one without so many cheeky remarks!" She pinched one of Oren's cheeks playfully. "Oh, I suppose I'll miss... some of the knights, yes, including Ser Samuell." She stuck her tongue out at her nephew. "But not as much as I'd miss you if I went with them."

"I'm glad you're staying with me, Sena. Maybe... if Mother allows it... you could teach me how to shoot a bow? Maybe? Please?" His face was eager as he continued in a rush. "Father said I should ask because you'll be in charge with him and grandfather gone." He paused, his excitement bubbling over. "So, will you? Please, Sena?"

"Oh, I suppose I could find some time to show you a thing or two," she said. "If you'll help me keep all these rowdy soldiers in line while our fathers are away, I'll teach you how to shoot." She held out a hand to Oren. "Deal?"

Oren threw his arms around Serena's neck and she picked him up with a groan. "I'll take that as a 'yes' then, shall I?" She laughed and spun him around. "Ohhh, you are getting too big for me." She deposited him in a heap on a nearby chair, laughing.

"Father says I'm growing so fast, soon I'll be able to pick you up, Sena!"

"I sure hope so, I'm tired of walking everywhere!" Serena said with a laugh. "You get bigger every day, it seems. Do you know where Fergus is anyway? My father said he would be in here, but..."

"Father went to the stables, to check on the horses. One of them ate some bad oats, I think. Well, that's what he said anyway," Oren replied with a shrug. "He said he would be back here after dinner to say goodbye to me and Mother."

Serena nodded, wondering if she should head down to the stables or just wait until after dinner. "I'll just see him later, then." No use in hunting all over the grounds looking for him, she decided. If he's just going to end up back here anyway, I'll catch up with him.

"If I see him sooner, I'll tell Father you're looking for him," Oren added helpfully.

"Thank you, Oren," Serena said. She patted the writing desk encouragingly. "You should finish up your lines before Aldous has us both stuck in the study copying the Chant of Light until winter."

"It would be a lot more interesting if there were more ghosts in it," he said, making a face.

"Or giant spiders," Serena replied with a laugh. "Big hairy ones with gaping jaws, coming to snap you up!" She reached around Oren, playfully clawing at his hair as he giggled and shivered away. "Now, back to work, nephew." The boy sighed heavily, looking towards the window wistfully but sat back down and reopened the book he'd been copying. Serena left the room to the sound of a quill scratching away on paper.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – _A Mother's Worry_

Serena wandered the castle corridors aimlessly, wondering if she should find her mother. "She'd probably have me clean my room," she mumbled. "Or perhaps the entire castle..."

"And my dear Bryce brought this back from Orlais last year..." Eleanor Cousland's voice floated down the corridor from the atrium beyond. Serena looked up the path to see her mother talking with three other hazy figures. Squinting, she realized these must be some of the guests Mother had been warning her to get cleaned up for. She noted two of the figures were obviously women, while the other was a broad shouldered man.

Serves me right for leaving my room, Serena thought. At least Mother won't chide me for looking a mess. Serena threw up a hand and waved to the group ahead.

"Serena, sweetheart! Come say hello. We have guests!" Eleanor called to her daughter.

Smoothing the front of her dress, Serena silently thanked the Maker she'd had the good sense to wash up after that incident in the larder earlier. Eleanor would not be pleased to see her daughter greeting guests covered head to toe in rat parts.

"Ah, here is my lovely daughter," Eleanor said to her guests, introducing Serena with a wave of her hand.

"Good afternoon, Mother." Serena said, smiling at the others. Her mother stood tall and elegant next to another iron-haired woman Serena thought she recognized.

"I don't see that troublesome hound of yours..." Eleanor replied, looking politely annoyed. "Did Ser Gilmore catch up with you? I assume the situation in the kitchen is handled?"

Serena nodded. "Yes, Mother, Nan is back to work as we speak. Peanut is napping in my room at the moment." She rolled her eyes. "I suppose he's tired from causing Nan all sorts of trouble. We left the larder a bit of a mess."

"Well, at least one of us will have had a decent dinner," her mother replied. "Perhaps your hound left something I can feed my guests." She gestured to the woman to her left. "Darling, you remember Lady Landra? Bann Loren's wife?"

"I think we last met at your mother's spring salon," Lady Landry said.

"Yes, of course," Serena replied with a small curtsy. "It is good to see you again. I think you were a bit… indisposed the last time."

"You are too kind, child. Well, it was a lovely salon, from what little I can remember. My son tells me I was very well beyond drunk at the time, and trying quite spiritedly to get you two engaged." Lady Landra smiled awkwardly, and put a hand on the arm of the young blonde woman next to her. "I'm not sure if you've met Iona, my lady-in-waiting. Do say something, dear."

The petite blonde woman smiled, her small brown eyes looked very kind. "It is a great pleasure, my lady. You are as pretty as your mother describes." Serena bowed her head, slightly embarrassed. What had her mother been saying?

"And of course, you know my son Dairren…" Lady Landra was saying.

The red haired young man smiled crookedly at Serena, as if waiting to see if she remembered him or not.

"Dairren…" Serena beamed, crossing the few feet between them to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. "Oh, goodness. It's been ages!"

"Indeed, my lady. It is wonderful to see you once again." Dairren kissed her on the cheek, before they became aware again of the other three ladies present. The two separated uncomfortably as Serena put out a hand for Dairren to kiss, as tradition demanded. She could feel her face grow warm.

"I apologize for my overzealous nature, my lady," Dairren intoned, a knowing grin on his face.

"Think nothing of it," Serena replied, working hard to keep her face from flushing. She silently cursed herself for being so silly around men today. You'd think Mother kept me in a cage, she thought petulantly, the way I've been carrying on today.

Serena turned to her mother. "I wish you'd told me Lady Landra and her family were to be our guests."

"Obviously, dear." Eleanor rolled her eyes at her daughter, smiling. "They're so... _passionate_ at this age, aren't they, Landra?"

"Absolutely, but you remember how we were at their age, Eleanor," Landra replied with a laugh. "Always giggling about the young men in the practice fields… I daresay that's how Bryce first caught _your_ eye."

"Oh yes, I was quite the battle maiden myself in my day, but I rather think it was my talent at the softer arts which helped me land a husband." Eleanor frowned at her daughter. "You know that's quite the compliment Iona gives you, as she says that after seeing you whacking those stuffed men in the courtyard, sweating like a mule!"

"Your daughter's prowess with her blades is _quite_ impressive," Dairren said, with a wink at Serena. "I saw her practicing earlier with one of your castles' knights."

"Occasionally they humor me with a practice session or two," Serena replied with a shrug, her face growing hot once again. "Although the Grey Warden, Duncan, saw me and said I'd make a good recruit..." Serena looked sidelong at her mother, wondering if her reaction would be as her father had said.

"You haven't got it into your head that you want to become one, have you?" Eleanor asked, her face bordering on frantic.

"No, Mother. Father was very adamant that he wouldn't allow both Fergus and I to ride off into the sunset...Duncan said he would not press the issue."

"I should hope not! I don't need you off chasing danger like your brother, Maker knows I can't stop him at his age... but Bryce knows I would have his eyeballs for earrings if he sent my baby girl off to war with those monstrous things!"

"I don't think the knights are that ugly, Mother," Serena said with a grin. "Ser Gilmore told me he even has them on a regular bathing schedule now."

"Very funny," Eleanor said, dryly. Despite Eleanor's tone, Serena could tell her mother was slightly annoyed by her joking nature. "The darkspawn are a very serious matter entirely, though. If the men cannot hold them in the south, it may not be long before we shall all need to take up arms against them."

"Oh, you don't think it will really come to that, do you, Eleanor? I'm absolute rubbish with a blade." Lady Landra looked to her lady-in-waiting, Iona, who looked equally alarmed at the idea of ever lifting a sword or bow. "Surely the King's army can route those terrible things right back into the ground where they came from."

"Maker help us, I hope so," Eleanor replied, her voice soft.

"Hm, well, I think perhaps I shall rest now, my dear. Good evening, your Ladyship." She kissed Eleanor lightly on each cheek and turned to her son. "Dairren, I will see you and Iona at supper." She curtsied delicately, and headed off from the atrium towards her room.

"I think we'll retire to the study for now," Dairren said. "You are welcome to join us if you'd like, my lady."

"Yes, well... perhaps we should speak alone later, Dairren?" Serena asked.

"I would like that, my lady," Dairren replied. "Until then." His face remained cool, but Serena thought she could detect the ghost of a smile there. Serena watched silently as Dairren and Iona disappeared towards the library in the east wing of the castle.

Left alone with her mother, Serena suddenly felt very anxious, unsure on whether her mother was irritated with her over her cavalier attitude... or the Grey Warden business.

Eleanor gazed at her daughter, her big green eyes serious. "You should say goodbye to Fergus, dear, while you have the chance. He's riding out soon, you know." She paused a moment before putting a soft hand to her daughter's cheek. "I know it's difficult to stay in the castle and watch others ride off, but we must see to our duties first. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yes, of course, Mother. I just... can shake this feeling, you know. What if Father... or Fergus... what if they fall?" Serena unconsciously put a hand on her dagger's hilt, rubbing a thumb over it. "I can't help but think I could make a difference."

"It's in the Maker's hands now, dear, and we must cope as best we can." Her mother looked out over the grounds from the atrium, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. "Someone has to run this castle, don't they?"

Serena watched as one of the gardeners' pulled up dead bulbs from the flowerbeds near the castle entrance. It was always nice to see that the possible darkspawn war didn't interrupt _everyone's_ daily lives. "I just have a bad feeling about all this," Serena said finally.

"As do I, pup." Eleanor put an arm around her daughter, squeezing Serena to her gently. "Your father and brother are marching off to fight Maker-knows-what... all the assurances in the world won't comfort me. I'm just thankful to have you here with me. Fergus and your father have their duty, and we have ours."

"Will you be staying at the castle? I had assumed so, but then when Father said I was to be in charge..." Serena trailed off.

"I am staying for a few days. Then I'll travel with Lady Landra to her estate and keep her company for a time. It won't be _too_ long, mind you. I don't want to return to find drunken knights hanging from the chandeliers naked as the day they were born. But your father thinks my presence here might undermine your authority."

"So I'll be here alone?" Serena hoped her voice didn't sound as stunned as she felt. She had thought at least her mother would be here as a... secondary authority of sorts. She never imagined it would just be _her_ taking care of _everything_.

"Well, your sister-in-law, Oriana will be here, and Oren, of course, and Ser Gilmore and some of the other knights and guardsmen, but yes. _You _will be in charge, even when I've returned." Eleanor spun her daughter towards her, looking her directly in the eyes. "Don't worry, my dearest, you will do just fine. You're smart, strong, and everyone here respects you. You are your father's daughter, right down to those precocious blue eyes of yours. Everything will work out just fine. You'll see."

Serena couldn't help but feel comforted by her mother's words. At nearly 19 years old, she supposed it was time she started taking on more real responsibility, and with Fergus and her father off to battle in the south... She smiled bravely for her mother, hoping that faking it would be enough for now.

**Author's Note:** First, thank you to all readers and reviewers! This is a rather short chapter, as I prepare for some much longer action-packed ones that are coming up. I wanted to note that the rating might change to M coming up soon, as well. I hope you all are enjoying the story so far.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**: A super-sized chapter! A quick warning, this chapter contains psuedo-sexual banter and mild sexual situations.

Chapter 5 – _Gentle Persuasions_

Serena headed towards the library to seek out Dairren before dinner. Her whole body felt heavy with her mother's worried talk, and she thought a bit of shameless flirting would be just what she needed to snap herself out of this uneasy funk.

Thoughts of her father and brothers impending ride out, which had previously made her feel somewhat jealous, now just left her with a sense of dread. Worry creased her face, and she felt like she had a perpetual frown. It was strange to think she had been ecstatic simply hours before, desperately wanting to join Fergus and her father in the adventure. Now Serena found the conversation with her mother did little other than set off an intense anxiety within her.

She agreed with her mother that yes, they had their duties, but what if nobody respected her? What if she couldn't keep everything running smoothly during her father's absence from the castle? She almost wished she had had this sort of responsibility thrust on her sooner, so it wouldn't seem like such a monumental ordeal to her now.

"I don't know why I'm worrying so much," Serena muttered to herself. "It will either work out or it won't. There's no use toiling over it endlessly and ruining my afternoon."

Serena turned the corner into the library, and paused, taking in the delicious leathery smell of hundreds of books. She breathed deep, letting the familiar aroma soothe her apprehension. The castle had a fantastic collection, with huge shelves filled from top to bottom with books of all kinds.

Serena was particularly fond of a shelf of books on different species of animals found around Ferelden. Many of the tomes were very old, some nearly falling apart. Serena would spend long hours reading about giant spiders found swarming in the sea caves near Lothering, or the blight wolves that stalked the outskirts of the Brecilian Forest.

She even had a journal in her room filled with precise little illustrations, copied right from the different texts. Captions next to the drawings marked the animals' names and any special attributes the book had mentioned about them. Spiders, for example, came in a frightening amount of varieties, from enormous green poisonous ones to minuscule little red ones that would sneak into your bedroll at night and bite you, causing shiny purple blisters to break out all over the infected area. Serena shivered at the thought of them.

Flipping absently through one of the books, _The Dragons of Tevinter_, Serena marveled at the delicate brushstrokes some long-dead Chantry scholar had painstakingly reproduced to create the different types of dragons. Big, scaly, and absolutely vicious, she thought, how different could one dragon be from the next, really?

Lost in reflection, it made her think of all the fantastical things her books described that she would probably never get the chance to see if she stayed in Highever. She had traveled beyond the city, of course, but only to the nearby Bannorn, and to the capital, Denerim, on occasion.

There were so many places she longed to explore in Ferelden, so many exotic locations she had read about in assorted dusty volumes. Her world rapidly was starting to feel very small, and she felt the old familiar itch of restlessness settling back in. Serena tucked the book into her pocket for later.

The study Dairren had mentioned he and Iona would be in was behind a large door at the back of the library. It was a medium sized room, much smaller than the library proper, and was filled with a much more unique selection of books, handpicked by her grandfather. Mostly banned or no longer in print, he had collected them over many years, searching derelict shelves for books people no longer cared about, in houses people no longer cared for. Many of them were one-of-a-kind, or so Aldous told her.

"Serena?" a voice called from the hall. "Is that you, my dear girl?"

So much for quiet contemplation, Serena thought. She turned around at the mention of her name to see her old tutor striding into the library flanked by two small miserable looking boys on either side. "Hello, Aldous. It's a good afternoon for some peace and quiet, no?"

"Somehow I knew I would find you here, girl." The old man took a seat at one of the wooden tables, groaning at the effort of sitting down. Aldous must be in his seventies now, if Serena remembered correctly, it was no wonder he was feeling the ache. "See, boys? Everyone loves reading and history. I have no idea why you two think cleaning those awful-smelling horses would be more interesting."

"Uh… right. Yes." Serena shrugged helplessly. "Horses… books, of course. What exactly are you talking about? Are these some of your new charges?"

"Meet young masters Richard and Fabian," Aldous said, indicating first to the blonde boy, and then the black haired boy with darker skin. "Say hello, boys."

"Hello," both boys intoned automatically. Serena sighed. They would obviously rather be anywhere else, rather than stuck in the library listening to an old man ramble about the importance of times gone by. She couldn't really blame them, with all the bustling excitement around the castle these last few days.

"By chance, I am attempting to teach these young squires about your family's history," Aldous explained to Serena. "I don't suppose you would-"

"Do we _have_ to?" Richard whined. "History is _boring_." Beside him, Fabian nodded enthusiastically. "Ser Bryant asked us specifically to help brush the horses, too," he added.

"I think not, boys. Lessons come first, even Ser Bryant knows that." Aldous pulled the two seats out beside him, patting the table encouragingly. "Indulge an old man this once, won't you?" The two boys groaned, flopping into the open seats. "Tell me, boys, do you even know to whom you are currently showing such blatant disrespect?"

Richard exchanged a quick glance with Fabian, who shrugged uselessly. Serena watched his face as he struggled to remember her name. Oh, this would be fun, she thought.

"Uhh… Lady… Sarah?" Richard said finally. Aldous shook his head, annoyed. Serena tried to stifle a laugh, but ended up in a fit of coughing. The boys simply looked amused at the old man's obvious exasperation.

"If you won't introduce yourself, I suppose I'll have to then?" he said. Aldous waited a moment, but Serena said nothing, she simply continued to grin. After working out with the knights, infuriating her old tutor was one of Serena's favorite pastimes. He was almost as easy to provoke as Nan.

"This is Lady _Serena_, not Sarah," Aldous replied icily. "She is the only daughter of Teyrn Bryce and Eleanor Cousland… the very family in whose castle you two ungrateful whelps live!" Aldous' face flushed so red, even his wrinkles looked furious.

"It's alright, Aldous," Serena said gently. "They're just boys. Plus history _can_ be boring sometimes."

"I see _you_ haven't changed," Aldous muttered. "Perhaps it would benefit you to join our lesson?"

Serena considered for a moment. She didn't really have anything pressing going on, and perhaps after a quick history lesson, she could meet up with Dairren and it would be considered officially "later". Then again, it _was_ fun to aggravate Aldous.

"Oh, I think _I'm_ a bit old for lessons, don't you think?"

"My dear, we are never too old to learn," Aldous replied. "And perhaps you could make the topic more… palatable for these young lads and their miniscule intellects?" If either of the two boys realized they were being insulted, they didn't show it.

"Very well," Serena relented with a sigh.

"Wonderful!" Aldous cried, looking pleased for the first time that afternoon. "The Cousland history is long, indeed. Where shall we start?"

Serena thought about it for a moment before a face rose to the forefront of her mind. "Tell me about our relationship with Arl Howe," she said.

"Ah, our recent guest, Arl Rendon Howe," Aldous said with a nod. "Yes, the history between the Couslands and the Howes reaches back nearly as long as the Cousland line does as teynirs. Highever, and the surrounding lands, originally belonged to a close cousin of the Howe family, Conobar. However, his wife, Flemeth, murdered him before they produced an heir, and so the land passed to Conobar's captain of the guard, as is tradition."

"That would be my ancestor," Serena supplied.

"Yes, Sarim Cousland. The next history picks up on the Couslands and Howes is during the Orlesian occupation," Aldous continued. He looked to the boys, and Serena was surprised to find they were actually paying rapt attention. Perhaps it was the mention of murder, she thought.

"When did Orlais occupy Highever again?" Serena asked.

"It was during your grandfather's rule, dear girl. Of course, Orlais found it difficult to hold these lands. During the rebellion against the empire, several battles were fought near Highever. The port of Harper's Ford was the teyrnir's center, and its arl was Tarleton Howe."

"Is that Arl Howe's father or grandfather?" Serena assumed it must have been his grandfather; Arl Howe didn't appear to be much older than her own father, unless he just took excellent card of himself, which she doubted. Or bathed in the blood on infants to stay young, she mused silently.

"Tarleton was Rendon Howe's grandfather, and since Howe's father, Bastian, had died of blood poisoning a few years before, Rendon was next in line. Keep in mind that although Tarleton was nearly ninety, he was still as sharp and bitter as cheap ale, and he had chosen to side with Orlais during the rebellion."

"But grandfather supported King Maric, right? In one of the few times we actually did side with the crown, it would seem," Serena added.

"Correct. Your grandfather openly supported the rebellion, and your family was forced to seize Harper's Ford before it was all over. As the most important port in the area, your grandfather couldn't afford to lose it. Indeed, by keeping the town, your family drove the Orlesians from their lands. Tarleton was hanged later as a traitor to the true crown, and the arldom passed to Rendon Howe, who, of course, still holds it today."

"So, the Couslands fought the Howes?" Fabian asked. His dark eyes looked eager.

"Yes, at first, but Rendon Howe had the good sense to see which way the winds were blowing, so to speak, and they eventually joined the rebellion, when all of Ferelden united behind King Maric and General Loghain. Just as we now unite behind Maric's son, King Cailan, to fight the darkspawn."

"What are the darkspawn?" Richard asked. "I heard the knights talking about a horde of them. What is a horde?"

"Darkspawn… well, actually, Serena since you're up, head over there and grab that big blue leather book for me, dear," Aldous said, pointing to a far shelf. Serena did as he bid, pulling the enormous book from a shelf. How had she never noticed this book before? It was longer than her forearm! She placed it down on the table in front of Aldous, who flipped it open.

"This is a record from the last Blight, over four hundred years ago, which is the last time the darkspawn reached the surface in any sort of vast amount. That's what a horde is, Richard. A very large amount of something. In this case, darkspawn warriors." Aldous traced one of the illustrations, etched big and black against the old pages. "This is what they look like, I suppose, although I have never seen one myself, thank the Maker."

Serena peered over his shoulder at the drawing. The darkspawn, she was surprised to see, was relatively human in shape, if the person had been somewhat disfigured. Huge hulking shoulders, atop which sat a smallish head, with a massive mouth filled with sharp little teeth. It wore crude armor, and carried a wicked-looking hand axe. She wondered if they trained with their weapons as people did, or if they just ran into battle blind, hoping for the best?

The two boys were enraptured by the pictures, fawning over the different drawings, pointing out all the horribly deadly attributes of each. Aldous looked over their heads at Serena, who rolled her eyes. Of course the deadlier the lesson, the more interesting it would be for the boys.

"Well, time to end the lesson for me, I think," Serena said at last. Anymore of these pictures and she was sure she would have nightmares tonight.

"Thank you for indulging an old man, Serena," Aldous said, appreciation showing in his old face.

"Aww, does that mean we have to _listen_ to you, now?" Richard moaned. Fabian was smart enough to keep his mouth closed as Aldous stared daggers at the young blonde boy.

"Smart-mouthed hooligans," he said, rolling his eyes at Serena. "Perhaps you should go. I doubt they need any more distraction. I'm just going to settle in here and… apparently just talk to myself…"

Serena waved and quickly slipped in the study door, closing it behind her.

"Hello again, my lady," came a soft voice. Serena gasped, immediately feeling silly for her overabundance of nerves. Of course it was just Iona. Dairren had said they would be here, after all. Serena glanced around quickly.

"Hello, Iona," she said slowly. "How…are you?"

"Dairren is in one of the side rooms, reading, my lady," Iona replied. Serena could tell the blonde was trying to hide a smile. "But I am doing well, myself."

Serena felt her face growing hot. "I am… so very embarrassed. Am I that transparent?"

"You are young, that's all. I was young once myself, not so long ago." Iona grasped one of Serena's hands gently. "He speaks of you often. It is very sweet."

"He is a very sweet man," Serena replied, blushing. "I was curious; do you travel with Lady Landra often? I don't remember seeing you at my mother's salon, and I don't mean to be rude, but I noticed you are…"

"An elf, yes." Iona tucked her hair behind one ear, as if to emphasis the point. "I take no offense, my lady. It is rather strange to see an elven lady-in-waiting, I suppose. Lady Landra has been very good to my family, as she is to all her elven servants. That is not true in many households, but I heard it is in yours as well." Iona smiled, and Serena thought it looked a bit sad. "I hope… one day I can pass my title on to my daughter."

"You have a daughter? You seem so young."

"It is my elven blood; we appear much younger than we are, I think." Iona smiled, and Serena could see there was age in her eyes, if nowhere else. This woman had seen much in her years. "But yes, I do have a daughter. Amethyne. She has your blue eyes, her father's eyes. He was a very handsome man."

"Oh, he has…" Serena searched for the right words. "Has he passed?"

Iona nodded. "Yes, he died of the wasting sickness a few years ago. I am lucky, Lady Landra took us in, and I have flourished under her instruction. Amethyne will grow up with comforts many of my people must do without."

"You sound as if you love her very much, she is a lucky girl."

"Amethyne is my _life_. You will know when you have children." Iona placed her gentle hand on Serena's shoulder again, as if through physical contact she could transfer her motherly concern to her. "This is why your mother protects you from the coming battle."

"Yes, I know…" Serena sighed. "She just wants me to be safe. Sometimes it is hard to just… sit back and watch, though."

"Well, know that she means well. All mothers do." Iona pointed to a door to one of the small reading nooks located off the study. "Dairren is in there, I believe. I am going to rest before supper. I shall see you later this evening, my lady." With that, Iona left the study, the door clicking shut behind her.

"Maker, protect me from my own silliness," she said quietly. She steeled herself, taking a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

"Iona? Is that you? You can come in," Dairren's voice called. The door opened and Serena curtsied, grinning wickedly. Dairren looked surprised for a moment, and then smirked.

"Ah, Serena… it is... outstanding to see you again so soon," he said, wrapping her in a hug. "I was just enjoying your wonderful assortment of books in here." He indicated the room. "Might I ask to whom it belongs?"

"It was my grandfather's, actually," Serena replied. "He collected them over the years…" She picked one of the books off the bookshelf at random, flipping through it quickly before replacing it on the shelf. "Most of them are hand bound, or else out-of-print. I come here often to read and… reflect."

"As would I," Dairren agreed. "Do you have a favorite?" He held up the book he'd been reading in the little nook. "I found this one earlier. You should see some of the pictures…"

"Do you really want to talk about books, Dairren?" She pulled the book from his hand, reading the title aloud. "The Art of Passionate Love…" Serena giggled. "I think I might have read this once before, actually." She batted her eyelashes playfully at Dairren. "Late at night."

Dairren laughed, and Serena couldn't help but smile at the sound. "Yes, frankly I'm shocked it was written by a Chantry scholar, to be honest," he said. "From what little I've read, it seems… quite provocative."

"Well, you know it must get _very_ boring in the Chantry sometimes." She ran a hand down his arm, where he caught her hand in his. "You can only pray so long before you have to actually _do_ something, right?"

"My thoughts exactly," Dairren murmured, leaning in and kissing her softly. Serena wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing him deeper into the kiss. She loved the almost magical way all her anxiety seemed to melt away, replaced by a heady fire of lust.

Dairren slid the neckline of her dress down, kissing along her collarbone. "You have the softest skin, my lady," he whispered. "And you smell like the forest." He picked her up and placed her on the writing table behind them, shutting the door to the nook with his foot. He began kissing her anywhere there was open skin.

Serena fumbled uselessly with the buttons on his shirt until he shrugged the whole thing off, and then she was just touching his bare chest, his skin warm to her touch. "It feels so wrong, to do this in a library, you know," she whispered. If these books could talk…"

"Then they'd probably say '_you're doing it wrong_'," Dairren replied, kissing her cheeks, her neck, her shoulder. "Besides, isn't it fun?" His breath came out warm against her neck and she shivered.

"Ohhh…" She moaned softly, the sound involuntary.

"I will take that as a 'yes', my lady." He ran a hand down her thigh, rubbing tiny circles with his thumb along the way. Serena remembered this move of his from her mother's spring salon, where they had stolen kisses in the castle's armory. Bumped up against the stone walls, surrounded by weapons of all kinds, it had been as thrilling as it was an absolutely awful place to find oneself intimately engaged. Well, at least there's no danger of being impaled on a _book_, she thought sheepishly.

Serena felt Dairren pause, his head jerking up to listen hard. "Did you hear something?"

"We're okay, I think, in here. The study door is shut, too."

The loud bang of a door crashing open and slamming into the wall froze Dairren and Serena in their tracks.

"Supper's on the table in ten minutes, girl!" came Nan's barking yell. Serena guessed she couldn't have been more than 10 feet away, her voice sounded that close. "Make sure you put those books back or Aldous will have your head!" Then there was the sound of stomping, and then silence.

Serena let out a sigh of relief, covering her face with her hands. "Today is just _not_ my day," she breathed.

Dairren pulled her hands to his lips and kissed them. "It was probably silly of us to start this here, of all places."

"Aw, you don't find books very sexy?" Serena teased, running her hands over his wild red hair, smoothing it out. It felt so soft under her fingers.

"I find _you_ very sexy," Dairren replied, grinning. "Perhaps we could continue this later?"

"Hmm, maybe you could come by my room tonight? After everyone is asleep?" She paused, thinking hard. "The guards usually go for a break around 11 or so, you could sneak by then. I'll leave my door unlocked."

"I think I could manage that, my lady." He pulled his shirt back on, buttoning it slowly. "You might have to re-braid your hair... I might have, um, mussed it up a bit." Serena put a hand up to her braid and felt the ribbon slide out of it into her lap.

"Worth it," she said, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "I better go find a mirror to fix this mess. I'll see you at dinner?"

"Absolutely." Dairren caught her hand, pulling her to him in another kiss. "Until later," he whispered against her lips.

Serena straightened her dress, hoping she didn't look too disheveled, and giving Dairren once last smile, she departed.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 –_ A Toast for Ferelden_

Dinner that night was a huge and bustling affair, the main hall teeming with nobles, their guests and high-ranking soldiers. The castle's dining room has been converted into a buffet, with tables pushed into the main hall to accommodate the large number of guests now clambering for one of the many seats.

Serena traveled down the buffet table behind Oren, both of them piling their plates high with bits of roasted lamb and chicken, deviled eggs, fresh berries and cream, and smoked salmon. Serena leaned forward, taking in the delicious smell of the thick gravy Nan had made from an old family recipe of hers. Adding a large helping of it to her mashed potatoes, she saw Oren beside her, grinning as he popped an extra roll in his mouth before moving right past the grilled vegetables.

"Ah, ah, hold it, kiddo," Serena said, putting a hand out to stop Oren. "You're at least going to have some potatoes. They're not even green." She gave him a serious look. "No excuses. Oriana would kill me if I let you get away with eating just rolls all night long."

"You're as bad as Mother, Sena," Oren said, making a face. Serena reached over and spooned a small pile of mashed potatoes onto Oren's plate. "Gravy helps," she whispered to him. "Really. They're delicious, just try them." Oren rolled his eyes, picked up another fluffy roll and dropped it on his plate. "I'll save you a seat by me, Sena," Oren called, disappearing into the main room.

"Can I sit on your other side?" a voice murmured into Serena's ear. Serena grinned as Dairren appeared at her side, his own plate filled with delicious foodstuffs. She noticed his plate was also completely devoid of vegetables. Boys, she thought with a sigh.

"Shall we?" Serena led Dairren to the main table, weaving between the many bodies now packed into the rooms.

"You know, I think there might be more people here now than at your mother's last party," Dairren remarked, following Serena through the throng of people.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Serena replied. "It feels like the whole northern army is in here. Although everyone is a lot less drunk than at Mother's last party..."

"Sena! Auntie Sena! Over here!" Oren stood on his chair, waving his hands frantically from across the room.

"Is that your nephew, my lady? He is very... excitable."

"That's certainly one word for it," Serena said. "You should have seen him earlier today. He was trying to convince me there were ghosts in the castle talking to us through cracks in the walls. It was completely ridiculous."

"And you fell for it?" Dairren asked.

"Only for a little while!" Serena protested. "I mean, I knew it wasn't ghosts. I was just... humoring him."

"He sounds like a riot," Dairren replied, grinning at Serena. "I hope I have five just like him."

"Oh my... five Oren's? That poor woman..." Serena sat down at the table next to Oren, coaxing a chair over for Dairren.

"What poor woman?"

"Your future wife," Serena teased. "Whoever she is, she's going to have her hands full." Dairren rolled his eyes, placing his plate down on the table. Oren leaned around Serena, staring openly at Dairren, his face curious. "Hi. Who are you? I don't think I know you."

"I'm Dairren." He glanced at Serena for help, who simply smirked. He was on his own. "I'm… a friend of your Aunt's," he finished lamely.

"He's Bann Loren's son, Oren," Serena added, taking pity on Dairren. "You remember him, right? Fergus was his partner for battledore last year, when they won the tournament. Dairren and his family are here visiting for a few days."

"Battedore is boring," Oren replied. He made a gesture of someone whacking an invisible ball with a racket, and then waiting around wearily for awhile, and then hitting it again. "All you do is hit at that little funny ball over and over."

"You don't like anything unless it has a sword or a bow involved, Oren," Serena said, poking him in the stomach. She turned to Dairren, rolling her eyes. "Well, I thought you were quite magnificent out there with my brother, for whatever it's worth..."

"So, are you my Auntie's boyfriend?" Oren interrupted. "I think she needs a boyfriend. All the knights are leaving and she won't have anyone to fight with outside. Sena is really good with her knives. I've seen her. But Mother says she should have a boyfriend like a proper lady." He paused, looking back and forth between the flushed faces of his aunt and Dairren. "Are you two okay?"

"Dairren is an old friend, and we will leave it at that," Serena said, ruffling the boy's dark hair. "Now stop being nosy and eat those potatoes." Oren stuck his tongue out at her, scrunching his face up.

"You know, perhaps I was being a bit ambitious... I'm sure one of him is enough," Dairren murmured to Serena. "Or perhaps I will ask the Maker for a girl... Say, Oren, about how old are you?"

"I'm nine, but I'll be ten real soon," Oren replied, his mouth full of mashed potatoes. "My birthday is a week before Sena's."

Serena counted quickly in her head. "Oh goodness, that's only three weeks from now, isn't it?" The boy nodded enthusiastically. "We'll have to plan something special for you, then. You don't turn ten every day, you know."

"Do you want to come to my party, Ser Dairren?" Oren grinned, his small eyes sparkling with excitement. "Last year I had ponies! But I think I'm too old for that now. If Sena teaches me how to shoot, I could have a shooting game at my party. You will come, won't you?"

"I would love to, Oren. Thank you. We shall have to see how these battles go in the south, though. I hope I will be able to get back in time." He regarded Serena. "I'm not sure if I told you, but I am to be your father's squire these next few weeks."

"Oh." Serena felt her smile falter slightly. "Well, my father couldn't ask for a better one, I'm sure..." She tried smiling again and feeling it forced, just looked down into her plate glumly, her appetite quickly disappearing. "Are you... are you leaving with Father tomorrow?"

Dairren nodded, watching as Serena as she seemed to fold into herself at his words. "We ride out in the morning." He knew he should have told her sooner... But seeing her now was killing him enough. He couldn't have born to have his entire time here with her tainted with thoughts of what could be.

Serena felt an intense longing well up inside her. Was everyone leaving her then? First her father and her brother, then Ser Samuell and the other knights she practiced with, and now Dairren, too? And despite all their assurances, it seemed like this was a true Blight after all, as they were taking every able bodied man in the entire Bannorn to the south. She began to regret more and more that she was to stay here at the castle.

Even though he couldn't possibly be aware of the underlying meaning of their conversation, Dairren watched as Oren sensed his aunts unhappiness and scooted closer to her, resting his small head at her shoulder. "It'll be okay, Sena. We can have ponies again, if you want."

Dairren caught her other hand in his, squeezing it gently. "It will be fine, Serena. It should only take a few weeks, at most, and I promise we'll be safe."

Serena looked up into his eyes, and he saw the unshed tears that sparkled there. "You can't promise that, Dairren. You know you can't promise me that."

"I can try," he murmured. "After all, I have someone to come back to." Serena gave him a watery smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You had better keep writing to me," she whispered fervently. "I don't care if darkspawn are piling into your tent- you better write me to let me know you're alright."

"I will, of course. I will write you every day, my lady." He put emphasis on the last two words, looking into Serena's eyes seriously. She nodded, smiling gently. She glanced around, hoping nobody had noticed their little scene in all the commotion from the banquet.

The feast continued on for well over an hour before Serena saw her father stand and clear his throat, immediately commanding the notice of the entire hall. Hushed silence followed as people put down their utensils and cups, waiting, as rapt in attention as she was.

"My dear friends, as we all know too well, our lands have been threatened once again by an external force. After four hundred years, the darkspawn have returned to Thedas, this time in the very lands we call home."

Serena looked around the hall; familiar faces seemed to pop out at her. There was the Grey Warden, Duncan, looking solemn, his brow furrowed in meditation. A few seats down sat Lady Landra and her husband, Bann Loren. Iona appeared at the Landra's side, her blonde hair shining in the light from the chandelier above.

Down a few seats from her sat Ser Samuell with some other knights of Highever. She saw Ser Samuell glance over at her and wink, his dark hair falling iover his forehead. It was rare she saw him with a helmet. Nearby, Ser Gilmore and the other guards staying behind were smiling and nodding their assent at her father's words.

Glancing towards the back, she saw Arl Howe near the end of the table, sitting with his commander. They had matching expressions of grim acceptance, as if they were attending someone's funeral rather than a celebratory feast. Serena stared hard at Howe, memorizing his features. There was something off about that man, she mused silently, and she would be damned if she wouldn't figure out what it was.

"We shall ride out," her father continued in his carrying voice. "Many tonight, the rest of us joining in the morning, as we head south. We merge with King Cailan and his army, as well as the fabled Grey Wardens, in an effort to protect what is ours. Our families, our lands, our freedom!"

At this point, much of the hall cheered and raised their glasses. Bryce Cousland beamed across the hall, his voice rising again over the cacophony.

"As our ancestors did centuries ago, _we shall drive them back!_ And tonight, as we spend our last hours together for now, we shall toast to a united Ferelden, a land free of the darkspawn corruption!" More cheers erupted all over the hall. It felt like the very roof would blow off with the force of their exhilaration. Serena raised her own glass, as did Dairren, and even little Oren beside her, although she doubted he understood what was going on and was simply copying everyone in an effort to belong.

"To victory!" her father shouted.

"_TO VICTORY! _" came the thunderous response. As if they were all part of one creature, each person in the room drank from their goblet, cheering and whooping wildly.

For a moment, Serena felt completely caught up in the exuberance of the moment. She leaned into Dairren's shoulder, smiling up at him again. He grinned back and put an arm around her, squeezing her quickly. "To victory," she whispered to him, her fingers snaking to intertwine with his, and Dairren saw that this time the smile touched her eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – _Night Moves_

After the feast had finally wound down, Serena headed back towards her room with Dairren.

"You know, I doubt anyone would even notice if you just came back with me now," she said, giving him a secret smile.

"Oh, I'm sure my mother would wonder what I got up to eventually... depending on how much she drank at the feast," Dairren replied. They walked past a set of guards who both nodded at Serena with a mumbled "Good evening, my lady."

Dairren lowered his voice. "You said they change at eleven?" Serena glanced around before pulling him into a side room. "Around eleven, usually. I haven't a clue what time it is now, maybe between 8 and 9?" She paused, looking around the room to see if there was a functioning clock within.

Many of the rooms throughout the castle had clocks within with the sole purpose of ringing the canonical hours in the morning and evening for prayers at the small chapel inside the castle.

Serena had a small mechanical clock of her own, given to her by her father after a trip abroad, that sat on the vanity in her room that she wound every morning. It had a small metal figure that came out and rang a tiny bell every hour during the daytime, and then at night until 9, and would essentially 'sleep' until six the next morning, when she would have to wind it again.

As a result, Serena was an early riser, often heading down to the chapel to pray silently to the Maker and his Prophet, Andraste, for a safe and productive day. This morning she had prayed for great prowess in battle, in preparation for her practice session with Ser Samuell, along with safety for the knights who would be riding out.

As luck would have it, there wasn't a clock in the room. Of course, Serena thought, of course when I need one... She turned to Dairren again, shrugging. "Well, anyway. I'm sure there's one in your mother's rooms. They set up dinner early because Fergus is supposed to ride out soon-" She stopped, covering her mouth with a hand, eyes wide. "Fergus! Oh, I completely forgot!"

"You forgot what exac-" Dairren began.

Serena flapped a hand at him impatiently. "Oh, Father's message... Ah, nevermind. I have to go find Fergus." She gave Dairren a quick kiss, popping up on her toes to reach his lips. "Eleven o'clock, alright? Just knock once." She glanced out into the hallway. "Okay, I have to go." She gently pushed him out in front of her, shutting the door behind them. "See you later."

Dairren watched Serena disappear down the hallway at a run. Her dress hem bounced gently with the movement, and he felt his mouth quirk into a smile, appreciating the view. "See you," he said softly, heading off in the opposite direction.

Serena raced through the halls, her boots pounding the stones rhythmically. She hoped Fergus was still in the castle, although she doubted he would have taken off without saying goodbye to her. They were too close for him to just leave, possibly forever, and not say anything to her. "I'm his only sister, after all," she muttered.

Oren had said he would be in their rooms after dinner, so she turned suddenly into the atrium, taking a detour that was actually a secret passage that cut between the armory and her room. Serena had used it many times to sneak past her parents rooms and the guards that usually patroled nearby to sneak into the kitchens undetected.

Pushing a tapestry to the side, she slipped into the narrow passageway. It was an easy squeeze for her, even though she had to duck slightly at some sections as part of the ceiling dipped low. She put out her hands just case any spiders had taken up in the corners of the passageway.

Serena knew of four other passageways that ran throughout different parts of the castle and the surrounding grounds. She assumed there were probably at least two or three others that she hadn't had occasion to find, and the one she was in now was definitely the most used one, at least by her. The other passageways were mostly used by the servants, as they needed to get from one place to another quickly, or be able to prepare a section of the castle for guests without being seen wandering the halls with dirty linens or chamberpots.

Slipping out from behind another tapestry, she turned and straightened it, frowning as she took in the scene again. The Battle of White River. Serena couldn't help but think the red river of blood running next to the figure of her father and Arl Howe was a bad omen. She turned away quickly.

"Is there really going to be a war, Father?" Oren's excited voice carried into the hallway. "Will you bring me back a big sword?"

Serena tiptoed up to Fergus' door, not wanting to interrupt. She leaned in, watching her brother and his family with a small smile. Despite his nosy nature, she really did have the cutest nephew in the world.

"I"ll get you the mightest sword I can find, I promise," Fergus said, grinning broadly at his son. "I'll be back before you know it." Beside him, his wife Oriana sighed heavily.

"I wish victory was indeed so certain." She clutched her heart dramatically and Serena couldn't help rolling her eyes. "My heart is disquiet."

Fergus wrapped her in a side hug, which seemed to calm her. "Don't frighten the boy, love. I've had reports from the south, and really I think we'll just be a glorified clean up crew." He looked up and noticed Serena leaning in the doorway and waved. "And here is my darling little sister to see me off."

"Shall I wait outside?" Serena asked, taking a tentative step back into the hall.

"Nonsense," her brother called. "I can't very well leave without saying farewell to my favorite sibling."

"Your only sibling," Serena corrected, sticking out her tongue.

"Exactly! My very favorite in the whole world." Fergus wrapped her in a hug, clapping her on the back gently. "Oh, how I wish you could come with me, sister dear. It'll be so tiring, killing all those darkspawn myself."

"As if Mother would ever let me set foot in the Kocari Wilds."

"Father said there's great beasts in the wilds, Sena!" Oren grabbed her hand, tugging gently. "Giant wolves that can eat a man whole! Didn't you say that, papa?"

"Shhh, Oren, you'll get me in trouble with your mother," Fergus said, glancing sidelong at Oriana. "And maybe your grandmother, too."

"I wish I could go with you, Brother," Serena said glumly.

"In Antiva, a woman fighting in battle would be... unthinkable." Oriana eyed Serena's belt where her two blades hung, the look of distaste reading clearly on her face.

"Is that so? I'd always heard Antivan women were quite dangerous," Fergus replied.

"With kindness and poison only, my dear husband," Oriana said with a laugh.

"And this from the woman who serves me my tea!" He turned to Serena again, grinning broadly. "If it's any consolation, sister, I'm sure I'll freeze in those southern rains and be completely jealous of you lot up here, warm and safe and dry."

"I am positively thrilled you will be so miserable, Fergus," Oriana replied dryly. "Color me grateful."

"Fergus, have you heard about the Grey Warden?" Serena asked her brother. "He's here in the castle."

"Was he riding a griffon?" Oren interrupted.

"No, he was riding a giant spider!" Serena scooped up Oren, swinging him around in a circle.

"I'd heard that," Fergus said. "Not the giant spider bit, but that he was in the castle. Did he say why he's come?"

Serena spun Oren around once again, before depositing him on the chair. "He's recruiting Wardens. He's going to test Ser Gilmore."

"Good for him! I hope he makes it," Fergus said with an approving nod. "Although if I were a Grey Warden, I'd have my eye on you, dear sister, not that Father would ever allow it. But Ser Samuell was telling me in the stables earlier how you bested him with some sort of flip over his head..?"

"Oh, that-" Serena blushed. "We were just sparring... I got a running start and, well, anyway. Do you really think the war will be over quickly, Fergus?"

Serena's brother shrugged his broad shoulders, unconcerned. "Word from the south is that the battles have all gone well. There's no evidence, other than the Grey Warden I suppose, that this is actually a true Blight- I imagine it's just a large raid, but I'll see for myself soon enough." He pulled Oriana to him, kissing her softly on the cheek. "Pray for me, love, and I'll be back within a month or two."

"Oh, that reminds me, I have a message from Father. He wants you to leave without him tonight," Serena said. "Arl Howe's men have been delayed, so they will be leaving when they arrive tomorrow."

"You'd think his men were all walking backwards, as long as they've taken to get here from Amaranthine..." Fergus mumbled. "Well, I better get underway, then." He ruffled Oren's hair, and again Serena was struck by how alike her brother and nephew were. "So many darkspawn to behead, so little time."

"I would hope," came a new voice, "that you planned to wait for us before taking your leave, my dear boy?" Serena turned and watched her parents stroll into the room, arm in arm.

"Father? You could have delivered that message yourself," Serena grumbled.

"And miss having both my children in one place before I leave?" Bryce Cousland laughed, clapping a hand on his son's back. "Not likely."

Eleanor Cousland gently touched her son's face, smiling. "Be well, my son. I will pray for your safe return every day you are gone."

"Maker sustain and preserve us all," Oriana intoned. "Watch over our sons, husbands, and fathers and bring them safely back to us." She touched her husband's face fondly as Serena whispered "Amen."

"And bring us some ale and wenches while you're at it! Err, for the men, of course," Fergus added, glancing at Oriana sheepishly.

"Fergus! You would say this in front of your mother?" Oriana gasped.

"What's a wench?" Oren tugged on his mother's skirt. "Is that what you pull on to get the bucket out of the well?"

"A wench is a woman who pours the ale in a tavern, Oren," Bryce explained. He paused, considering. "Or a woman who drinks a lot of ale..."

"Bryce!" Eleanor reached over, clasping her hands lightly over Oren's ears. "Maker's breath, it's like living with a pair of small boys!" She narrowed her eyes at her husband. "And before you say it, I don't mean my grandson." She sighed. "Thankfully, I have a daughter."

"I'll miss you, Mother dear," Fergus said, smiling brilliantly. He turned to Serena. "You'll take care of her, Sister, won't you?"

"Of course," Serena replied. "But you know Mother can handle herself just fine."

Fergus laughed. "Too true! Father, you ought to send her to command the men, not me! Mother could simply scold these darkspawn right back down into the Deep Roads..."

"Enough, enough," Bryce said, waving a hand. He addressed Serena. "Pup, you'll want to get an early night, you have much to do tomorrow. I want you to ride to the city wall with the Arl and myself, so I'll need you to be sure to lay out a pack of essentials tonight, just in case."

"Yes, Father, of course," Serena replied, giddy she would at least get to do something fun tomorrow. She had been prepared to simply watch at the castle gates, waving piteously, as her father and the rest of the men left for the south. She wondred briefly if her favorite pony would be available, or if the men had already commissioned the fat gray horse to be a mount for one of the Arl's men. Serena silently added it to her list of things to check in the morning after praying at the chapel.

"Are you going to teach me how to use a bow before Father returns, Sena?" Oren pleaded. "Then I can fight evil, too." He pulled an invisible arrow from his back, nocking it into his invisible bow. "Take that, dire bunny! And that, demon! All darkspawn shall fear my arrows of truthiness!"

Serena laughed. "Of course, Oren." She pulled out invisible daggers, not daring to pull her real ones in front of her sister-in-law, and jumped behind Oren, slashing at the air. "Let's go get them!"

"Fergus," Oriana began, her eyes on the ceiling. "There are times when your family causes me great pains."

"We're _your_ family, too, Oriana," Serena teased her sister-in-law. Sobering, she turned to Fergus and regarded him seriously. "You will be missed greatly, dear Brother. Make the Maker watch over you always." Leaning forward, she hugged her brother tightly.

Turning, she waved to the rest of her family. "I need to pack and get some sleep. I'll see the rest of you in the morning. Goodnight." Her family repeated a chorus of goodnights, and Serena smiled to herself, heading back to her room.

Peanut sat up as his mistress entered the room. "Hey, lazy, have a good nap?" she asked, leaning down and scratching behind his ears. She turned towards her closet, still speaking to her hound. "Father said we're to ride with him and the Arl's men to the wall tomorrow." For what it was worth, the mabari appeared to be paying attention, following Serena with his eyes as she moved about the room, packing things into a knapsack.

Serena added a waterskin and a small leather pouch filled with hard dog biscuits. Peanut perked an ear up and Serena shook the pouch enticingly. As much as Nan complained about the hound, there were always fresh mabari crunch baked for him in the kitchen.

Serens stood, thinking hard about what to put in the pack. It was just a day trip, really, especially if they were riding, but who knew? The weather in Highever, especially on the coast, could change quickly. She added a bedroll and a change of clothes, just in case.

Grabbing a few more things, Serena packed them carefully, finally content and putting it near the door. "Well, now what?" she asked the dog. Peanut nosed her pocket in response, pushing at the book. Serena pulled out _The Dragons of Tevinter_ from her belt pouch, sitting down at her writing desk. She had completely forgotten she'd taken it from the library. Peanut padded over and laid his head on her lap, begging for another ear scratch.

"You're a good boy," Serena cooed at the hound. She turned to the desk and opened her journal to a new page.

A few hours later, Serena looked up at her clock. It was nearly eleven, already? A moment later, a soft knock sounded at her door. Serena paused, straightening her braid nervously. She noticed Peanut slink into her small bathroom out of the corner of her eye.

"Come in," she called.

The door opened swiftly and suddenly Dairren stood in front of her, clad in loose fitting pajamas.

"You ran about the castle in those?" Serena asked, staring openly at his striped ensemble.

Dairren looked down at his pants, then shrugged sheepishly. "I figured if I ran into any guards, I would just look like I was heading to the kitchens for a snack."

"Did you run into anyone?"

"No, actually." Dairren frowned. "Not a single soul. I saw a group of guards playing cards in one of the rooms, but otherwise... nobody. But your brother did leave with most of the men, the castle is bound to be rather empty."

"I'm glad the guards left take our safety and protection so seriously," Serena quipped. She looked down at her dress. "I.. I must confess, I did not know what to wear."

"Why wear anything at all?" Dairren replied, pulling his shirt up over his head and tossing it aside. He moved forward, running a hand down Serena's neck. He kissed her softly and she couldn't help the shiver that ran down her body.

His hands moved again, and Serena felt her clothes quickly slip away until she was standing only in her small clothes. Dairren smiled, taking her in. "You are beautiful," he breathed.

"I am practically naked."

"Yes, that, too." Dairren grinned, picking Serena up and plunking her down on the bed. He turned to the door, and Serena heard the click of the lock. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She could feel her heartbeat in her neck, pounding steadily against her skin. Any louder, and surely Dairren would be able to hear it, too.

"I've only..." Serena paused, blushing. "I've only done this one before."

Dairren crawled up onto the bed next to her, taking her hand in his. "Well, I'm no expert, of course," he said quietly. He kissed her neck again, trailing kisses down her body. "We'll... just... go... slowly..."

Serena could only sigh in response. She hoped tonight would last.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:**Thanks to all the people following and reviewing! It is greatly appreciated and I'm glad to hear you like the story so far.

Chapter 8 – _The Longest Night, Part 1_

Serena awoke to the sound of growling.

"Peanut, hush. You'll wake up the whole castle," Serena mumbled. She rolled over, snuggling into Dairren's shoulder. "Dozy dog."

"Serena... I think..." Dairren rubbed her back, gently waking her up. "Serena, I think someone is in the hallway. I tried to quiet your hound, but..."

"_What?_" Serena sat up, grabbing her clothes off the floor. "Who could possibly-" She picked up Dairren's pajama pants and tossed them to him. "If it's my mother..."

Dairren pulled at Peanut, who was now jumping at the door, growling loudly. "I tried to quiet him, but he simply won't have it!" He pulled uselessly at Peanut's collar, but the hound was nearly as large. "I don't know why he's so angry!"

A muffled yell broke through the hall, and they both froze. Peanut barked loudly, jumping at the wooden door again.

"Something is wrong. Did you hear that?" Serena turned to her armoire and pulled out her practice leathers. "I'm going out there-"

"My lady, no!" Dairren let go of Peanut. "Let me check, it could be nothing!" He paused, listening hard at the door. "I don't hear anything now."

Serena frowned, listening. "I definitely heard something. It sounded like someone yelling." She threw on a light shirt over her leggings, and then strapped her gauntlets on. "I need to make sure Oren and Oriana are okay." Pulling on her armor, she looked at Dairren. "I'll just be a minute."

"Serena, no. Just let me check first. I don't want you to just waltz out there." He put an ear to the door, turning the lock slowly. A low growl escaped Peanut from beside him.

"Do you hear anything?" Serena asked.

Dairren shook his head and turned the knob. "I'll be right back, I'm just going to look down the hall."

"Here, take this," Serena said, handing him one of her silverite daggers. "Just in case." Dairren looked down at the dagger apprehensively, but nodded.

"Just in case," he repeated. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips, and then slid out the door. Before she could pull him back, Peanut pushed through the door and followed.

Serena peeked out the door, her other dagger in her hand. Dairren was creeping down the hall, Peanut right behind him, snuffing loudly against the ground.

"Over here! I see another one!" A loud male voice shouted. Peanut barked loudly, and Serena heard men's heavy boots running down the hall.

"Dairren! Hurry! Come back in here!" Serena yelled. Dairren turned, about to back into the room when an arrow flew past his head. "Maker's breath! Dairren!" Peanut growled and charged forward, just as two men appeared. An archer behind them nocked another arrow into his bow and pulled back.

"Serena! Run!" Dairren cried. He threw her dagger at the nearest man, hitting him right in the gut as Peanut grappled another to the ground, jaws snapping his neck. The guard doubled over, screaming, as the archer behind him released his arrow right into Dairren's chest.

"Dairren!" Serena felt a scream of fury erupt out of her as she rushed forward. She turned to the archer and threw her dagger right at his neck, cleaving right across. Blood spurted from the wound and the archer dropped to the ground. Peanut turned and knocked the wounded guard to the ground, his jaws sinking into his neck as the man continued trying to scream. The hound twisted, and abruptly the hall was quiet.

Serena dropped to Dairren's side, cradling his shoulder. Blood gushed from the wound in his chest, spilling out onto the stones around them. "Please be alright. Please, Maker have mercy, please, please." She pushed his red hair out of his face and his brown eyes locked onto hers.

"Serena... I... sorry..." His voice was barely a whisper.

"No, no, you're fine, you're fine. Dairren!" Serena watched his eyes close slowly, blood still flowing freely down his chest. "Dairren, please, please..." Her eyes welled with tears as she felt his body go limp in her arms.

Peanut padded over to his mistress with his head down, blood dripping from his muzzle. He let out a low whine, nosing Dairren's body gently. Serena brushed the tears from her cheeks, feeling wetness mix with the blood on her hands.

Gently pulling Dairren's body into her room, she pulled the arrow from his chest slowly, her stomach turning slightly as it gave a sick sucking sound. Serena felt her eyes tear up again as she crossed his arms over his chest and kissed him on the forehead. Slowly, she began the prayer.

"_Blessed are the righteous,_  
><em>the lights in the shadow.<em>  
><em>In their blood the Maker's will is written<em>."

Serena crossed herself silently, and bowed her head. Grabbing her knapsack before she left, she headed back into the hallway, walking over to the dead guards, and pulling her daggers from each. She wiped the blood on their tunics, kicking the archer hard in the head with her boot for good measure.

"Serena! Darling!"

Serena gaped as her mother rushed down the hall, her dress exchanged for light leather armor like Serena's own. Eleanor carried a large bow and a quiver of arrows were strapped to her back.

"I heard fighting outside and I feared the worst. Are you hurt? There's blood all over you!" Eleanor looked at the three dead guards, then at her daughter's daggers. "Did you-"

"Mother... They killed Dairren! We heard yelling and he came out here to see, and they shot him in the... right in the chest. He's dead." Serena shook her head, trying to push the tears away again. "Who are these men? They're not our guards."

Her mother shook her head, pointing at the dead men. "Did you see their shields? These are Howe's men! Why would they try to attack us?"

"He told Father his men were delayed!" Serena kicked the guard at her feet, releasing some of the anger she felt at her inability to prevent Dairren's death. "He turns around and attacks us while our troops are gone! I knew it! I knew there was something awful about that bastard!"

"You don't think Howe's men were delayed on purpose, do you?" Eleanor's face tensed. "I'll cut his lying throat myself," she muttered.

"Is Father with you?" Serena asked, looking down the hall after her mother.

"No, I was just about to ask you. He never came to bed. We must find him!"

Serena glanced down the hall at the open door. "I want to check on Oren first." She turned and ran down the hall with Peanut, hearing her mother right behind her.

"Andraste's mercy, what if the soldiers went into your brother's rooms first?" Eleanor cried. They pushed open the door and Eleanor screamed. Serena covered her mother's eyes, whispering "Don't look, don't look." Eleanor pulled away, dropping to her knees at her grandson's side.

"No! My little Oren!" She cradled the boy's broken body in her arms. "What manner of fiend slaughters an innocent child?"

Serena noticed a bruise forming around his neck, it looked as if a guard had grabbed him and slammed him against the wall multiple times. A pool of blood surrounded his head. Serena crouched beside her mother, tears dropping quickly onto her nephew's small form.

"Oriana is gone, too," Serena whispered. Oren's mother lay prone nearby, her middle slashed clear across. Serena pursed her lips tightly to avoid the surge of nausea that threatened to overtake her. "Why... would they do this?"

Eleanor shook her head, her voice thick with pain. "Howe isn't even taking hostages. He means to kill us all..." She took her daughter's hand, looking away from the bodies. "Oh, poor Fergus. Let's go find your father, I don't want to see this..." Serena nodded, holding her mother's hand as they left the room. Serena felt a mix of emotions battling inside her, she couldn't decide whether she wanted to run or vomit. The adrenaline of the moment finally won out.

They moved down the hall, and Eleanor broke away, dashing into another room. Serena heard her cry out and rushed in behind her. Her mother kneeled beside the boddy of Lady Landra, crying softly. "Oh, dear Landra... I'm so... sorry..." Serena patted her mother's shoulder awkwardly, not knowing what to say. She was afraid they would run into this many more times before they reached her father.

"If she hadn't come to me... if she hadn't been here..." Eleanor sobbed. "And her son... All my fault..."

"I don't see Iona..." Serena whispered. The blonde elven woman wasn't in the room at all. "Maybe she got away?"

"We can only hope someone did," Eleanor replied, wiping her tears and standing. They headed down the hall quickly, Serena directing Peanut ahead of them to scout for more of Howe's guards.

"It sounds like the fighting is everywhere!" Serena pulled her daggers, ready for anything. "Mother, I think you should stay here, I don't want you in danger. Peanut and I can find Father."

"My only grandson is a corpse," Eleanor replied, her voice cracking with strain. "What do I care about danger?" She grabbed her daughter's shoulder, looking intense. "The front gates! That's where your father must be."

Serena listened hard, frowning. "I.. don't think so. It sounds like the worst of the fighting is coming from downstairs..."

"If Howe's men are inside, they must already control the castle. We must use the servants entry in the larder!" Eleanor pulled Serena close. "Do you hear me?"

"But Howe-" Serena protested.

"The castle has fallen!" Serena looked up as a servant ran past them. "I'm getting out of here!"

"Wait," Serena called to him. "Stand with us!" The servant turned, his eyes wide with fear. His face contorted slightly, as if he couldn't decide whether to obey the command or not.

"Y-yes, my lady." He glanced over his shoulder. "They will be here soon! They were right behind me."

Serena and her mother stood, readying themselves for the oncoming men. The man pulled out a short sword, his face wary. Four men turned the corner, the Howe livery clear on their shields. Eleanor loaded an arrow and shot, dropping the first man to the floor as he screamed in pain. Serena found herself vaguely impressed at her mother's skill with bow, after all these years.

Peanut bounded forward, Serena and the servant right behind him. The hound barreled into the group of men, knocking them into the walls. Serena pushed forward, thrusting one dagger into the nearest soldiers back side, and slicing another across the throat. Beside her, the servant parried a sword thrust from the final guard, turning quick and pushing his short sword into the man's gut. Another arrow flew past Serena and hit the guard behind her as the man fell back to the ground.

"Serena! The main hall is just in here!" Eleanor pulled her daughter to her feet and pointed. "Bryce might be inside!" Serena turned to the servant.

"Thank you, good man," she said quietly. "Use the servants exit in the larder, escape while you can." The man nodded gratefully and ran off as Serena followed her mother into the main hall.

The hall was a disaster. Wounded men lay at the large table while another guard tried to bandage a man's arm. Another group of Cousland guardsmen were securing the front doors with chairs and other furniture from the hall. Serena scanned the room for her father, but didn't see his auburn head anywhere.

"Bryce isn't here," Eleanor cried. "I thought-"

"It's alright, Mother." Serena hugged her mother tightly. "We'll find him, I promise."

"Your Ladyship! My lady! You're both alive!" Ser Gilmore emerged from the group of men at the doors, striding towards them quickly. "I was certain Howe's men had gotten through. It was all I could do to get these few men here to shut the gates..."

Serena glanced at the doors. Despite the men's barricade, she could hear something large slamming against them on the other side.

He followed her gaze, shaking his head. "I don't think they'll hold long. If you have another way out of the castle, I would use it quickly. We shall hold the gates as long as possible."

"Have you seen my father?" Serena asked.

"When I last saw the teyrn, he'd been badly wounded... I urged him not to go, but he was determined to find you. He went towards the kitchens." Ser Gilmore shrugged, his shoulders slumping with fatigue. He looked as if he had been fighting for his life for hours, and with a shudder, Serena realized that perhaps he had. "I believe he thought to find you at the servants exit in the larder."

"Oh, bless you, Ser Gilmore," Eleanor said, shaking the knight's hands gratefully. "Maker watch over you!"

"Maker watch over us all," Ser Gilmore intoned. He headed back to the men at the door, shouting orders as Serena and her mother headed out the back of the hall.

Serena paused at the door, listening to the sounds outside. There was yelling, a crashing sound... but nothing sounded too close. "Mother, I know a shortcut to the kitchens, its right up ahead, so just follow me, okay? We need to move quickly." She slowly opened the door, and slipped out, Eleanor and Peanut right behind.

"Right through here," Serena said, pushing a false wall back. Eleanor slid into the space and Serena followed, popping the wall back into place. With any luck, they would be able to get all the way to the kitchen through here without running into any of Howe's men. Peanut bounded ahead, snuffling along the ground.

"Sweetheart, how did you know this was here?"

"Ah, Fergus and I... we used to play capture the flag with some of the squires..." Serena felt the tug in her chest at the mention of her brother, but ignored it. "These passages are the easiest way to get around the castle without being seen." Serena stopped, pushing gently at the wall ahead. "The kitchens are just across the hall from this painting."

"Painting?" Eleanor's voice sounded incredulous. "What painting?"

"The... painting of grandfather... in the west hall... it opens..." Serena shrugged sheepishly. "I might have used it before... to sneak food from the kitchens for Peanut..."

"Thank the Maker for that silly dog's stomach," Eleanor said with a sigh. "This passage might very well save our lives."

Serena pushed the painting open, and stepped out, looking up and down the hall quickly. Peanut gave a small bark, backing up and lunging forward. He cleared the opening and skittered to a halt in the hall, his tongue rolling out in a grin as if to say this was such a fun game. Serena shook her head. That dog...

Eleanor climbed out of the portrait hole, looking around. "To think this was here the whole time..." She held out her hand and Serena could see it trembling. "Let's just find your father."

They entered the kitchens slowly, Serena with her daggers out. The room was dark except for a small lantern in the corner, and the tiny bit of light coming from the dying embers in the stove. It appeared as if Howe's men hadn't even bothered with the room, and headed straight for the bedroom chambers.

"Do you see anyone, dear?" Eleanor stayed near the wall, bracing the door shut with her body. Peanut sniffed around, nosing his way into the larder. He disappeared inside and then barked loudly.

"Serena? Is that you, pup? Who's there?" A weak voice called out.

"Bryce!" Eleanor charged past, Serena right on her heels. They pushed into the larder, kneeling down beside the teyrn. "Bryce! Oh, there's so much blood..." Eleanor's hand pulled away and Serena saw it was dark red.

"Howe's men... found me first," Bryce rasped. "Almost... did me in... right there." He wheezed with pain, and Serena saw a trickle of blood escape his lips. "Duncan... found me... brought me here..."

"And left you lying in a pool of your own blood?" Eleanor cried, clutching her husband's hand tightly. "Oh, Bryce... we have to get you out of here!"

"I won't... survive the standing, I think." Bryce closed his eyes, his face quickly losing color.

"Then we'll drag you out!" Serena kneeled at her father's fallen form, unsure of what to do. "Between us, we could carry you."

"Only... if you're willing to leave pieces of me behind, pup." Bryce blinked, focusing on Serena. "Someone must reach Fergus. Tell him... what happened."

"Bryce, no! The servants entrance is right here!" Eleanor begged, tears streaming from her eyes. "We can flee together, find you healing magic!"

Serena watched uselessly, she simply felt numb. There had been so much blood and death, and some of it by her own hand. She looked down at her hands, the blood already drying on her skin, and felt a shiver run down her spine, much different than the one Dairren had caused her earlier.

Dairren... the thought of him twisted her insides. If he had just stayed in... if she had pulled him to her... he might... Serena felt another tear slip down her face and she wiped it away angrily, refocusing on her parents.

"My love... the castle is surrounded... I cannot make it."

"I'm afraid the teyrn is correct." Serena turned and saw the huge form of the Grey Warden, Duncan, standing behind her. She hadn't even heard him come in he was so quiet. "Howe's men have not yet discovered this exit, but they surround the castle," Duncan continued. "Getting past will be difficult, even if the teyrn were not wounded so severely."

"You're Duncan, then?" Eleanor replied coolly. "The Grey Warden?"

"Yes, your Ladyship. The teyrn and I tried to reach you sooner, but the way was barred with men. It was all I could do to get him here."

Eleanor nodded at this, her face relaxing some. "My daughter helped me get here, Maker be praised."

"I am not surprised in the least," Duncan replied, and Serena thought she saw the ghost of a smile. "She is a very capable young woman."

"Can you help us? Help me fight them?" The words were tumbling out of Serena's mouth before she knew she was saying them. "Please."

Duncan placed a kind hand on her shoulder. "Not here, I'm sorry. There are too many men and they seem as willing to kill me as they are all of you. I believe flight is our only option now."

"Duncan... please... take my wife and daughter to safety." Bryce coughed, blood splattering the front of his tunic. "I beg you..."

"I will, your Lordship. But I fear I must ask you for something in return."

"Anything-"

"What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil now loose in this world. I came to your castle seeking a recruit." Duncan paused, his face tense. "The darkspawn threat demands I leave with one."

"I will go!" Serena exclaimed, breathless. "I will go with you. Please, just save my family!" Duncan nodded, turning to Bryce.

"I will take the teyrna and your daughter to Ostagar, to tell Fergus and the king what has happened here. Then Serena will take her place with the Grey Wardens."

"So long as justice comes to Howe... I agree," Bryce murmured. "Pup, go with him. You will... do great things... Ferelden... needs..."

"Bryce, please!" Eleanor tightened her grip on her husband's hand and looked at her daughter. "Darling... go with Duncan. You have... a better chance to escape without me."

"Mother, no-" Serena protested, but Eleanor held up a hand, cutting her off. Bryce tried to speak, but Serena could see her mother had made her mind up.

"Bryce, hush, I'll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy them time. But do not ask me to abandon you. I will not."

Serena kneeled at her father's side, grabbing her parents' hands. "I love you both, so, so much."

"Then _live_, darling." Eleanor kissed her fingertips, touching them to Serena's forehead. "Become a Grey Warden and do what is right."

"Go, pup. Warn your brother... and know that we love you both. You do us proud." Bryce smiled weakly, squeezing Serena's hand. A thunderous crash sounded in the castle, and Duncan put a tender hand on her shoulder once again.

"They've broken through the gates," he said. "We must go now."

Serena kissed her mother's cheek and stood. "I will make you proud."

"You already have, sweetheart," Eleanor said, tears falling freely. "We love you!" She stood, disengaging her hand from Bryce's and pulled her bow. "Go, my dear! Go!"

Duncan grabbed her hand, pulling her after him. "Stay with me, my lady. We must move swiftly." Serena gave her parents one last fleeting glance before she ducked into the servants exit to follow the Grey Warden, her faithful mabari on her heels.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 - T_he Longest Night, Part 2_

They emerged from the servant entrance slowly, Duncan leading them along the castle wall towards the training courtyard. The night air felt cool against Serena's exposed skin, making her wish she'd had the sense to grab a cloak for surely it would be even colder in the south.

"If we take a right up past that shed, the stables are on the west side of the castle grounds," Serena whispered. "There might still be some horses left there, and the woods are close enough that we could escape that way without being seen." She gulped. "Maybe."

"We will need to be very careful. There are at least two men watching the grounds from the parapet." Duncan pointed ahead at the roof, and Serena saw two dark shadows. "I will draw them away and you and the mabari should head to the stables. With any luck, I will meet you there."

He watched the pattern of the men for a minute, his eyes weary. "Alright, here we go. You go that way, stay to the shadows." Duncan ducked his head and pushed forward, disappearing around the corner.

Serena waited for a minute, and then crept along the wall, silently slipping from shadow to shadow as Duncan had instructed her. She could see the two men on the roof clearly now in the moonlight; they appeared to be facing in towards the castle, watching something happening below. Was that Duncan's distraction?

"All the better for me," Serena muttered. She beckoned to her hound and pointed down the hill to the stables. "Ready?" Peanuts tongue lolled out and he panted happily. Quick as a whip, Serena sprinted down the path to the stables, running for all she was worth, Peanut bounding along easily beside her. The stables were just ahead and she raced inside, slamming the door shut behind her hound.

She was immediately thrown by how immensely dark it was inside the building. The two tiny windows barely allowed in any light at all, and Serena found herself blinking rapidly to try and adjust her eyes to the dark. The smell of oiled leather and manure assaulted her nose as she headed down the rows of stalls, searching for two horses that they could ride out of here. Assuming Duncan makes it, she thought.

There appeared to only be six or seven horses left in the stables. Three smaller warhorses, stocky and thickly muscled, were just to the right of her, snorting and shuffling in their stalls. Two enormous geldings shared a double stall at the end of the way, with two ponies rounding out the group.

Serena pulled two saddles off the wall and headed to the back, glad to have a few moments to herself where she wasn't running, crying, or killing.

"Take it all in, girl," she whispered to herself. "We won't be coming back here for awhile." Beside her, Peanut let out a low whine.

"I know, boy." Serena scratched the hound behind the ears. "Howe won't get away with this, though. I'll have his head on a pike before I let him get away with this-"

"Lady Serena?"

"Duncan!" Serena called. "We're down here. I think I found two horses that will work."

Duncan met her down at the end of the stalls, his expression unreadable. Serena hoped he hadn't had a lot of trouble losing those guards.

"This is Pepper," Serena said, gesturing to a stocky gray pony. "I've ridden him plenty of times." She dropped one of the saddles at the front of his stall and turned to a large black gelding. "This is Kyber, he's... he was... my father's horse. I think you're around the same build, so he should respond well to you."

Duncan moved forward and reached a hand out to stroke the giant horses forehead. Serena watched as the horse closed the distance between them, pushing his face into Duncan's hand. "This is a fine horse," Duncan said. "I should be able to manage him alright."

Serena handed him the other saddle and they both got to work strapping them to their horses. She attached a pair of saddlebags to the cantle and grabbed some of the horse treats her brother hid in the cabinet. Fergus had always kept an extra pouch of carrots and sugar cubes for his horse when they returned from a ride. She turned away from the cabinet quickly. She would not think about her brother right now.

"If you're ready," Serena said, surprised at how level her voice sounded. "We can head out the back and down the path there. It heads right to the western woods." She guided Pepper out the back door, the Grey Warden right behind her.

"Do you hear anyone?"

"Markus! Over here! I just heard something!" A loud male voice shouted. The sound came from the front of the stables, and Serena heard at least two men trying to work the door open.

Serena cursed under her breath as she swung a leg up over her pony and mounted. Beside her, Duncan pulled himself up onto her father's horse, looking slightly uncomfortable, as if he didn't ride too often. Peanut growled, running off around the side of the stables. "Peanut, no!" she whispered fiercely.

"It's just a damn dog, Henry," another man complained. His voice sounded nasally and rough to Serena. "Let's get back up to the castle before..."

"I didn't hear no damn dog. I heard someone talking!" Henry hollered back. "Come on and help me open this door. I bet some of them servants are hiding in here."

"I believe that is our cue," Duncan said, kicking his horse into a trot. Serena did likewise and soon they were racing down the path, as two men burst from the back of the stables.

"Hey! You lot! Arrrghhh-"

Serena turned in her saddle to see Peanut barrel into the two men at a full run, knocking them to the ground. She watched as one managed to scramble away as her mabari pounced on the other, ripping his throat out.

The man gathered his feet under him and ran up the hill to the stables. "That dog is feral, Henry!" he shouted, not realizing his fellow was beyond caring whether Peanut was frothing at the mouth or not.

Serena put two fingers to her lips and let out a low whistle, and a minute later Peanut came running, his powerful legs bounded across the forest floor in great leaping strides.

"I don't know if that dog is utterly brilliant or absolutely terrifying," Duncan remarked, his dark eyes on the hound trotting happily at their side.

"Half the time I don't even know what he's planning to do," Serena replied. "He's almost _too_ smart." Beside her, Peanut barked merrily.

After that, a quiet exhaustion came over them, and neither spoke again for what seemed like hours to Serena, and by the time Duncan finally lead them to a small clearing, dawn was beginning to break.

"There's a creek that runs past here just ahead," Duncan said, dismounting from Kyber carefully. "I think we should rest here for awhile." He stared at Serena warily. "If you don't mind me saying so, you look like you could use some sleep."

"I..." Serena yawned. "Y-yes, I suppose I do." She glanced around the clearing. How far had they traveled? Surely no further than twenty or thirty miles? "Will Howe's men..." She stifled another big yawn. "Will they be able to track us, do you think?"

Duncan seemed to consider this for a moment, and then shook his head. "I don't believe so, my lady. They will... have enough to deal with at the castle, I'm afraid. And I doubt we were the only ones to escape them."

"Yes, I suppose they will have to finish slaughtering the rest of my family and guardsmen," Serena said bitterly. "Perhaps they'll even burn the whole place to the ground." Serena felt hot tears burn her eyes, and before she could stop them, fat teardrops slid down her face.

Duncan reached out, putting a kind hand on her shoulder. "I want you to know that Howe's treachery will not go unpunished. As long as you and your brother still live, that castle will _never_ truly be his."

"I know," Serena said, her voice thick with emotion. "It's just... that was my home. All I've ever truly known was there. It feels as if he has taken more than just my family's lives, but... it feels like my soul has been ripped in two." Two more tears slipped down her cheeks and she wiped them away angrily. "I will be fine, I just... he... I... I apologize for being so melodramatic."

"This is likely to be the last thing you want to hear right now, but I do understand what you are going through," Duncan said softly. "Know that the anger fades, it becomes... less intense as you fill with... a different purpose."

"Purpose?" Serena asked skeptically. She pulled a handkerchief from her knapsack and rubbed at her face. "What purpose could I possibly have _now?_ I'm... I'm no one."

"You are a Grey Warden," Duncan replied. "With that comes a great responsibility to protect this world from the darkspawn threat." He pulled out his own bag and moved about, setting up their makeshift camp.

Serena didn't say anything for a while, content to watch him build the small fire as she sat on her bedroll, exhausted. As tired as she was, she couldn't bring herself to lie down, fearful of the dreams that would come.

"Is that why you joined them?" she asked finally. "Is that why you became a Grey Warden? To protect people?"

"I wish I could claim so noble a reason, my lady," Duncan said with a heavy sigh. He sounded self-depreciating, as if he didn't tell this story often out of embarrassment.

"I was... very young, a few years younger than you even. My parents had died, and I was living as a thief on the streets of Val Royeaux. I... attempted to steal a ring from a man and he returned before I could slip out. I ended up fighting with him and he was killed." Duncan looked down at his hands and Serena was taken by the remorse that radiated off him still, after all these years. "I was arrested soon after, and sentenced to hang."

Serena gasped. She had trouble picturing the man sitting in front of their small fire as a young man, much less as a murdering thief sentenced to die. "W-what happened?"

"The day before the sentence was to be carried out, the Warden-Commander of Orlais came to my cell... and conscripted me into the Grey Wardens."

"So... he saved your life?"

"She," Duncan corrected. "And no, as it turned out... the man I killed was a Grey Warden, and she was betrothed to him." Duncan shrugged. "I believe, seeing me as I was then, she felt my conscription would be... a form of punishment. For a while I certainly saw it as such... but you are different, my lady. You shoulder a great burden now, and you do it with a grace much beyond your years."

Serena ducked her head, feeling her face blush. "I... thank you," she said softly. She didn't think she had been handling the situation very well at all, and perhaps Duncan was simply being nice, trying to make her feel better. Either way, she appreciated the effort.

"You should get some sleep. It will be a few days ride before we reach Ostagar." He sighed, looking out over the fire. "You'll need all your energy."

Serena nodded, leaning back into her bedroll. She felt Peanut crawl over and lay his head at her hand before she closed her eyes and sleep took her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors Note: **Thank you to my reviewers and followers, you guys are the best!

Chapter 10 - _The Arrival_

The next few days were a relentless monotony of riding all day and camping at night. Serena, however, had never traveled this far south in her life, and found the rapidly changing foliage interesting.

The coasts of Highever were mostly scrub trees and palms, with the woods near the castle filled with more lush vines and plump leafy trees. As they moved further south, she noticed the trees became much taller and more evergreen. Pine trees and colossal oaks stood rooted near the Imperial Highway as they made their way to Ostagar.

Duncan had taught her a few useful skills on the road as well. The second evening, he'd shown her how to set traps so they would have a rabbit or two waiting for them in the morning.

He had also shown her the proper way to skin and prepare them over the fire, while still keeping the coat in good enough condition to tan as they rode. Serena hoped to make a pair of rabbit fur insoles for her boots before long, as the weather cooled considerably the further south they went.

On the fifth day, Duncan announced that they were nearing Ostagar. Serena saw an enormous tower rise up in the distance, popping up out of the foggy valley in which Duncan pointed.

"That is the Tower of Ishal," he explained. "Beyond is the bridge that leads to the King's camp. There are only a few Grey Wardens in Ferelden at the moment, but they will all be here, as well."

Serena felt nervousness set in as they jockeyed their horses down the steep road to the tower. The fog was thick against her skin, and she could barely see Duncan ahead of her, relying mostly on the steady clip-clop sound Kyber's horseshoes made.

"This fog will burn off by midday," Duncan called, his voice carrying back to her. "You will barely notice it by the time we cross the bridge." The tower loomed ever closer as Serena guided the plump gray pony down the path.

"Warden-Commander!" A young man in shiny silver armor ran up the path, waving excitedly. "The King is just beyond, ser, waiting at the tower. He sent me ahead to take your horses."

Serena dismounted and handed Pepper's reins to the man. She noticed his armor distinguished him as one of the Chantry's templars. Where there were templars, surely there were mages... Serena wondered if she would be permitted to explore the camp and perhaps speak to one.

"Thank you, MacNall," Duncan was saying, handing his own reins over. He beckoned to Serena and they headed towards the tower. Ahead, Serena spotted a group of men standing and as they approached she recognized the golden armor of King Cailan himself.

"Ho there, Duncan!" The blonde king raised one hand in greeting to the pair and Serena realized the men with him were his guards. Of course they wouldn't allow the King to just wander around on his own in a forest filled with darkspawn, Serena thought.

"King Cailan- I wasn't expecting..."

"A royal welcome?" King Cailan said with a laugh, his whole face lighting up with pleasure. "I was beginning to think you'd miss all the fun!"

"Not if I could help it, your Majesty," Duncan said. "It took us a few days to ride from Highever." The king, however, didn't appear to be listening.

"I am so pleased I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle, after all," Cailan went on. "Absolutely glorious! The other Wardens told me you've found a promising recruit, as well. I take it this is she?" The King nodded his head to Serena, who dipped to one knee in salute.

"Allow me to introduce you, your Majesty..." Duncan began.

"No need, Duncan!" Cailan looked Serena up and down, nodding politely. "You are Bryce's youngest, are you not? I don't think we've ever _formally_ met."

"Yes, your Majesty," Serena said softly. "My name is Serena."

"Wonderful to finally met you, of course. Your brother has already arrived, of course, and now here I find myself with a matched Cousland set. How grand." He grinned broadly. "Fergus is off with the Highever men, scouting in the Wilds, but we are still awaiting your father."

Serena blanched, she had thought this might come up. "I... my father..." She stopped, turning to Duncan for help.

"Teyrn Cousland and his wife are dead, your Majesty," Duncan said gravely. "Arl Howe has shown himself a traitor, and overtaken Highever castle." He looked to Serena, his eyes sad. "Had we not escaped, he would have killed us as well and told you any story he wished."

For his part, the king looked absolutely stricken. "I... can scarcely believe it! How can he think he would get away with such treachery? Bryce and Eleanor... Maker's breath..." He paused, looking seriously at Serena. "As soon as we are done here, I will turn my army north and bring Howe to justice. You have my word."

"Thank you, your Majesty," Serena said with another low bow. "You have my entire family's thanks."

King Cailan nodded, his good mood all but evaporated at the news. "I have no doubt you wish to see your brother, but like I mentioned, he is out scouting with his men."

"Do you know when he might return?" Serena tried to keep her voice light, so as not to embarrass herself in front of the King by sounding overly anxious.

"I fear it won't be until after the battle," Cailian replied. "I apologize, I wouldn't have sent him out had I known, but... I'm very sorry. There is nothing I can do. All I can suggest is you vent your grief against the darkspawn for the time being."

He turned, regarding Duncan. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I should return to my tent. Loghain waits eagerly to bore me with more strategies, I'm sure." He smiled again, although it was a shadow of it former brilliance.

"Your uncle sends his greetings," Duncan added. "He wanted me to remind you that Redcliffe forces could be here in less than a week, if needed."

"Ha! Eamon wants in on the glory, I see!" The king clapped a gauntleted hand against his thigh. "We've won three battles against these monsters and the coming battle should be no different."

"I didn't realize things were... going so well," Serena remarked. "Have there not been a lot of raids?"

"Your Majesty, I'm not certain this Blight can be ended quite as... quickly... as you might wish," Duncan said carefully.

King Cailan laughed. "I'm not even sure this is a true Blight, Duncan. There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, of course, but alas, we've seen no sign at all of an _archdemon_."

"You sound disappointed, your Majesty," Duncan replied, a small smile showing.

"I'd hoped for a war like in the tales!" A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god!" Cailan sighed dramatically. "But I suppose this will have to do for now." He looked around at his guards, who appeared rather antsy. Cailan looked back at Duncan and Serena. "I must go before Loghain sends out a search party. Farewell, Grey Wardens!"

With a final wave, the king turned and disappeared back down the bridge into the camp. Duncan motioned to Serena to go ahead.

"What the king said is true, they've won several battles against the darkspawn here," Duncan said, walking beside her.

"Yet you don't sound very reassured," Serena said, snapping her fingers. Peanut barked from near a tree and ran up, now keeping pace at her side.

"Well, despite those victories, the darkspawn horde grows larger everyday. By now, they look to outnumber us." Duncan looked out from the bridge at the valley below, and even though it was lifting even as they spoke, the fog was still too thick to see anything but a few tall pines sticking up here and there. "I know there is an archdemon behind this," Duncan said quietly. "But I cannot ask the king to act solely on my feeling."

"Then perhaps we should move quickly," Serena remarked.

"Indeed. Our numbers in Ferelden are too few, and we must do what we can and look to Teyrn Loghain to make up the difference." Duncan sighed, and Serena thought he looked very tired. "To that end, we should proceed with the Joining ritual as soon as we can."

"Although a hot meal might be nice, first, maybe?" Serena said hopefully.

"I agree!" Duncan said, a deep laugh rumbling from him. "We have time, certainly. The ritual itself is brief, but there are some preparations to be made."

"Am I the only recruit?" she asked.

"No, there are two others here already. They have been waiting for us to arrive." Duncan gestured to the entrance to the camp at the end of bridge. "Feel free to explore the camp a bit, but I do ask that you don't leave it for the time being."

"There is another Grey Warden in the camp by the name of Alistair. When you are ready, simply find him and tell him to summon the other recruits." Duncan motioned to Peanut. "Your hound can stay with me while I attend to some business. If you need directions, the guard posted just down the way can help." With that, Duncan nodded and strolling into the camp, Peanut trotting happily along behind him.

"Traitor," Serena muttered, rolling her eyes after her hound. She crossed the rest of the bridge and nodded to the guard, preferring to find her own way rather than ask him for directions.

She secured her knapsack to her back and headed into the camp. "Now, if I were a tent filled with delicious food, where would I be?" she said. Huge colored tents rose up to her immediate right and Serena could see bright waves of light moving beyond them.

Despite the persistent growling in her stomach, Serena found herself moving closer to the tents. Two templars stood on either side of the entrance into the middle of the clearing, and Serena could see what had to be Circle mages performing... something. She watched as they chanted in unison, the colored lights moving about. She thought she could almost see something in the smoke...

"Excuse me, but you cannot move any closer," one of the templars said, holding out a hand to block her way. "The mages need complete concentration while scrying for the coming battle."

Serena backed up hurriedly. "Uh, of course, my apologies," she said. "I just saw the lights... sorry." She glanced back at the mages again before moving around the side of the large tent, still transfixed by the scene.

"Welcome, young woman," said a flat voice nearby.

Serena turned, startled. There was a man standing just beside her now, facing away from the mages tent. His dark hair was neat and tidy, and in the middle of his forehead was a strange symbol Serena thought she recognized.

"I wasn't going to go in or anything-" Serena started. She paused, focusing on his forehead. That symbol was... burned into his skin. "Wait. Who _are_ you?"

"I am one of the Tranquil, my friend," the man replied, his voice just as flat as before.

"Tranquil?" Serena tested the word. "_Tranquil_. What does that mean?"

"Those with magical talent attract demons and spirits. We can be possessed easily, and thus become abominations. Because of this, mages are considered dangerous. It is our curse." The man paused, and his dark eyes seemed to focus on something Serena couldn't see. "Thus, I was made tranquil. Stripped of emotions and talent, I am no longer dangerous."

Serena found the man's monotone voice was equal parts calming and creepy. Did he never smile? Did he even blink? She felt a shiver go up her spine that wasn't from the cold.

"So... if you can't do magic..." Serena motioned to the mages in the tent clearing. "What do you do?"

"The Tranquil are masters of working with raw lyrium to enchant objects and weapons for the Circle of Magi," the man replied. "Despite our lack of magic, the Tranquil serve a valuable purpose to the Circle. It is a time-consuming process, but it provides the Circle its wealth. Certainly, we would not get by on charity."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't," Serena said, her uneasiness around the man lessening a bit. "The Tranquil. So there are _more_ of you?"

"Yes." He pointed to his forehead, to the symbol Serena had noticed earlier. "We are branded with magic, which stills our talent and mind. The process is irreversible, as far as I am aware."

"Well, that's..." Serena searched for the right word. "Uh, that's... so they brand you like… like cattle? I'm sorry, but that just sounds horrible."

"It might seem such to you," the Tranquil man replied, his dark eyes blank. "But I feel no horror. I am content to serve in my role."

"But... do you know anything else? When did they make you tranquil?"

"When a mage fails their Harrowing, or is deemed too dangerous or susceptible to influences in the Fade, they are made Tranquil. I was eighteen. But my existence is quite peaceful. I am alive, productive, and no danger to anyone."

"Yes, well..." Serena looked about, feeling uncomfortable. "I should go."

"Goodbye," the man intoned. Serena backed up quickly, hoping she wasn't being too rude.

"I doubt if he'd even notice if I was rude," she mumbled to herself. She looked around her, unsure of where to go next. The ruins themselves were interesting, and she thought she could hear barking, so the kennels must be nearby, but...

A white-haired older woman touched Serena shoulder lightly. "May I be of some assistance?" Serena noticed her robes bared the same symbol that was burned in the tranquil man's forehead. Was she a Circle mage then?

"I- I was just... are you a mage?"

The woman smiled, her eyes crinkling. "Yes, child. My name is Wynne. I'm one of the senior enchanters with the Circle of Magi. We were summoned by the king to help in the upcoming battle."

"I'm Serena. I'm... well, I'm going to be a Grey Warden. Maker willing, of course." She shrugged. "I haven't gone through the Joining yet, so I'm not really much of anything at the moment."

"A Grey Warden?" Wynne seemed to consider this for a moment. "That is a big responsibility, and for someone so young... but I suppose sometimes our path is chosen for us, is it not?"

"You could say that," Serena said dryly. "Will you be fighting alongside the king?"

"Not precisely," the old mage answered. "The Grey Wardens will be on the front lines, not the mages. Still, we have our parts to play... mostly in elemental magic and healing spells."

"Is that what you specialize in?" Serena paused, unsure. "Do mages specialize? I'm afraid I don't know much about magic. I've never really met a mage before."

"I am especially good at healing, yes, although I know quite a few different spells," replied Wynne. "Although no amount of magical healing can help those who have been tainted by the darkspawn. We can only try to ease their suffering." Wynne shook her head, as if the topic was a prickly one. There was an awkward pause before she spoke again.

"I wonder... how much do you know of the connection between darkspawn and the Fade?"

Serena bit her lip. She didn't want to appear completely ignorant. "I... know the Fade is where you go when you dream. And that mages can... maneuver about in it."

"Yes," answered Wynne, smiling. "Any time your spirit leaves your earthly body, whether it is to dream, or to die, it passes into the realm we call the Fade." Serena thought Wynne must be a teacher or mentor, her tone reminded her so much of Aldous. "It's home to many spirits, some benevolent, others... far less so. At the heart of the Fade lies the Black City."

Serena frowned. "The huge black tower? I see it sometimes, in my dreams." Serena thought of her conversation with her nephew... had that really only been a few days ago?

"Yes, some say the Black City was once the seat of the Maker. But when mages from the Tevinter Imperium found a way into the City, it was tainted with their sin." The lines around Wynne's eyes became more pronounced as she spoke. "That taint transformed those men, turning them into twisted reflections of their own hearts. And the Maker cast them back to the earth, where they became the first darkspawn." She paused. "At least, that's what the Chant of Light says."

"I've had to copy lines about that, I think," Serena said. "Do you think it's true?"

"It may be allegory," Wynne replied evenly. "Meant to teach us that our own evil causes human suffering. Or it may be true. It is as good an explanation as any, for now."

"I hate to bother you further-" Serena began. "But do you know where I might find a man named Alistair? He's a Grey Warden."

"It's no trouble, child," replied Wynne. "I think I may know the young man you speak of, actually. He's blondish, with hair that sort of does this." She held up her hand to her forehead, the fingers extended out into points. Serena couldn't help but laugh at the impression.

"I would assume he would be in the Grey Warden camp, or at the very least, one of them would know where he was right now." Wynne pointed to a small collection of tents up a staircase behind her. "Their camp, or rather, your camp, is just beyond there. I wish you well, young Warden."

"Thank you, Wynne," Serena said, curtsying politely to the old woman. "I hope I will see you again soon." She smiled, her first true smile since she'd arrived at Ostagar, and headed in the direction the mage had indicated in search of the young man named Alistair.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 – _The Would-Be Templar_

Serena headed up the platform Wynne had pointed to, looking around. Duncan had told her Ostagar was originally built by magisters from the Tevinter Imperium to prevent the "Wilders" from invading the northern lowlands. The area was barely more than ruins now, though, from the looks of it.

She moved up the steps of what she assumed was an old temple. The Grey Warden camp was just beyond it; she could see the tents with their symbol, the griffon, set up.

"What is it now? Haven't the Grey Wardens asked _more_ than enough of the Circle?"

Serena ducked behind a ruined pillar quickly at the sound of a man's angry voice. She hadn't been with the Grey Wardens a day and already it seemed like everyone had a problem with them. Except King Cailan, of course.

As much as Serena felt grateful for his promise to avenge her family, the man did seem a bit... over-eager... in regards to the darkspawn threat. She hoped his zealousness worked to their advantage in battle.

"I simply came to deliver a message from the revered mother, ser mage," another voice replied, his tone mocking. "She desires your presence."

"What her Reverence _desires_ is of no concern to me!" the haughty mage replied, his hands on his hips. He was the picture of indignation. "I am busy helping the Grey Wardens-" he spat the order's name out angrily. "By the king's orders, I might add!"

"Should I have asked her to write a note?"

Serena peeked around the pillar and noticed the young man who was speaking was none other than the elusive Alistair. He didn't appear more than a year or two older than her at first glance and Serena giggled as she realized Wynne's impression of his sandy hair was dead accurate.

She saw his eyes briefly flick over in her direction at the sound of her laugh and she slipped further down the pillar in embarrassment, although she saw the man wink at her while the mage stomped angrily in front of him.

"Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!" shouted the mage, his dark hair flipping into his eyes as he jerked his head in frustration.

"Yes... _I_ was harassing _you_ by delivering a simple message," Alistair replied, flippant. "I think someone is just having a bad day."

The mage frowned, his arms crossing in front of his chest. "Your glibness does you no credit, young man."

Alistair threw up his hands in mock exasperation, shooting a quick grin at Serena, who blushed. "And here I thought we were getting along so well." He turned to the mage, grinning broadly. "I was even going to name one of my children after you... the grumpy one."

"Enough!" roared the mage. Obviously his patience with Alistair was spent. "I will speak to the woman if I must! Get out of my way, fool!" He threw a hand up and stalked off, his robes billowing behind him.

Serena slid out from the pillar; she could feel her lips twist into a smile at the sight of the young man. She had been expecting someone much older, and found herself glad there was at least one person her age.

"Well, that looked like it went well," she remarked lightly, strolling towards the grinning Alistair. He looked her up and down quickly, his eyes stopping briefly on the silverite daggers hanging from her belt.

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together." From his tone, Serena thought you might not even know the entire area was supposedly swarming with darkspawn. He didn't appear to have a care in the world.

"It's like a party," Alistair continued, his eyes twinkling. "We could all stand in a circle and hold hands." He put out a gloved hand and Serena felt herself take it gingerly. "See? That would give the darkspawn something to think about." He gripped her hand quickly and she could sense his strength.

"We... haven't met, have we?" He searched her face, and his hazel eyes were equal parts gentle and intense, as if he was trying to memorize her features. "I would have remembered a face like yours."

"Hideous, isn't it?" Serena replied, grinning. "I get that all the time... it's unfortunate, really. My mother was quite the beauty in her youth." She sighed dramatically. "You know, they used to call me "the ugly Cousland" as a child?"

She saw Alistair's eyes widened in recognition at the name. "I highly doubt anyone has ever called _you_ ugly, my lady," he said, putting emphasis on the last two words.

"Ah, no, no, none of that," Serena said, shaking her head.

"None of what?"

"None of that 'my lady' business. I shouldn't have mentioned it..." Serena stuck out her hand to him. "Hello. My name is Serena. _Just_ Serena."

"Why hello, just Serena. I'm Alistair." His smile broadened. "But I think you knew that already?"

"Maaaybe," Serena replied allusively. "Perhaps a mage in the camp mentioned to me what you looked like."

"Oh, really?" Alistair sounded genuinely intrigued. "Let me guess... Superbly handsome, but with a terrible sense of humor?"

Serena laughed. "Actually, she said you were blonde, and your hair sort of..." She stepped forward and ruffled his hair gently. "... Did this funny spiky bit at the front here."

Alistair grinned, catching her hand near his face. Serena felt herself blush again at his touch as she realized how close she was standing to him. She could even smell the soap he used, something musky, with a touch of pine. She looked up and saw his eyes were locked on hers, an intense look on his face. She blinked, and just as quickly it was gone. He dropped her hand and stepped back.

"Right..." Alistair ran a hand through his hair, but the bit in the front was as unruly as ever. "So, I don't know about you, but I'm famished. I missed breakfast this morning. Care to join me?"

At the mention of food, Serena's earlier hunger returned with a vengeance. "Would I ever... I'm starving."

Alistair led her to one of the large blue colored tents beyond the temple. Holding the flap back for her, she stepped inside. A long table with various sized pots was set up to her immediate left, with a few rough wooden tables for eating scattered through the rest of the space.

"It's not much, but at least it's always open," Alistair said, picking up an empty bowl from the end of the long buffet table. "With so many people in camp, there's no way we could all eat at once." He motioned to one of the steaming pots. "What is this?"

An attendant behind the table glanced into the pot and shrugged. "Ryott porridge, I think, ser. There's some fruit down there, if you'd like to add it. We've no honey left, I'm afraid."

Alistair turned to Serena, shrugging his shoulders as if to say it was better than nothing. He ladled some into both of their bowls and headed down the line, pulling some crusts of bread and adding bits of fruit to his porridge.

"It's not the best in the world, but it's certainly hardy," he said, plopping down on a bench as Serena settled down across from him. "And seeing as we'll be going out into the Wilds today-"

"Wait, _what?_" Serena nearly choked on her spoon.

Alistair flushed. "Ah, I guess they didn't mention that then. Hmm." He pulled a bit of bread apart and scooped some of the porridge onto it, popping it into his mouth. "There are preparations that have to be made, before you all can go through your Joining. Duncan will probably explain better than I can, but don't worry. As the junior member of the order, I'll be accompanying you."

"Into the Wilds," Serena repeated. "Where there's darkspawn..."

"Yes, well, there's other things in that forest than just darkspawn," Alistair said darkly. "You traveled here all the way from Highever, though, didn't you?" He grinned. "_You're_ still in one piece... more or less."

Serena nodded vaguely, trying hard to concentrate on her bowl of ryott. Memories of her home were still so close to the surface.

"Did you encounter any darkspawn along the way?"

"No... I've seen pictures of them, though. My tutor had a book with drawings of them." Serena paused, thinking about her journal. Had she packed it in her knapsack? She couldn't remember.

"When I fought my first one, I wasn't prepared for how... monstrous it was." Alistair looked down at the table, his hazel eyes unreadable to Serena. "I can't say I'm looking forward to encountering another."

"Duncan mentioned other recruits. Have you met them?" Serena was curious if she was the only female. Other than a few elven servants and Wynne, she hadn't really seen a lot of women around the camp so far.

"Yes, briefly. Daveth and Ser Jory. Nice fellows." Alistair popped another bit of bread in his mouth. "Ser Jory is from Redcliffe, not that I knew him before, or anything."

"Oh, are you from Redcliffe?" Serena found herself curious despite all her admonitions to Oren about being nosy.

"You could say that," replied Alistair. "I grew up in the Chantry though, mostly. I was actually training to become a templar when Duncan conscripted me. Not that I didn't want to join the Wardens, of course," he added hastily. "That was about... six months ago? The Grand Cleric wouldn't have let me go if Duncan hadn't forced the issue, though."

"A templar, hmm?" Serena considered this for a moment. "Those are the armored fellows that hunt mages, right?"

"The very same, although I didn't take my vows, so I'm not _technically_ a templar." Alistair shrugged. "I suppose Duncan thought my skills would work doubly so against the darkspawn... I'll always be grateful to him."

"You didn't like training as a templar?"

"Duncan saw I wasn't happy... I... didn't choose to live within the Chantry. That was decided for me long ago. I spent _years_ there, hopelessly resigned to my fate." Alistair sighed, his past unhappiness etching lines near his eyes when he frowned. "Duncan was the first person who cared about what _I_ wanted. He... risked a lot of trouble with the Grand Cleric to get me out."

"It seems to be a habit of his," Serena muttered, a small smile on her face.

"How do you mean?" Alistair asked.

"I owe him as well," Serena said softly. "He... he saved me." She looked into Alistair's kind eyes and smiled. "It's a long story. I'll tell you about it later." She stood up, stretching. "We should probably go get ready for this big trip to the Wilds, huh?"

"I imagine Duncan's eager to get things started, anyhow," Alistair said, dropping the subject. He took her bowl from her and placed them in a washing bin near the back of the tent. "Ready?"

They left the meal tent and headed back into the main camp, Alistair pointing out some of the more interesting areas to Serena.

"That's King Cailan's personal tent," he said, pointing to a large tent in the distance. "Although I'm surprised he didn't want to bunk with Duncan, the way he spends so much time in our camp." They headed into a field of tents, most of which bared the Gray Warden griffon.

"I don't know if you have a tent of your own?" he asked questioningly. Serena shook her head. She only had a bedroll along with her knapsack and some other personal possessions. "Maybe we could ask Ser Jory and Daveth to bunk up together and you could use one of their tents." He shrugged, leading her down a makeshift path to the back. "This one is mine, you can keep your things here for now."

Serena dropped to her knees and pulled the tent flap back.

"Don't judge me, I'm not the neatest man alive," Alistair murmured beside her as he squatted down. Serena smiled at him and placed her knapsack on a small crate near the entrance. The tent had the same smell as earlier, musky with a hint of pine, a scent she was coming to realize was just... Alistair.

"I appreciate it, regardless. I was sleeping on a bedroll in the forest, using my mabari as a pillow," said Serena, backing out and straightening. "Not the most comfortable, as you might imagine." They wound their way back through the camp and Serena realized they were headed towards a large bonfire near the front.

"Duncan should be just up the way," Alistair explained. A minute later they saw the large Grey Warden raise an arm up and beckon to them.

"I see you found Alistair without any trouble," Duncan called. "Excellent. I assume you're ready to begin the preparations. Ser Jory and Daveth are right over here." He motioned to two men standing nearby, one looking nervous, the other bored, as both came over to stand by Serena.

"Hi there," said the younger of two, extending a hand. "I'm Daveth." His face was covered in dark stubble. "This here is Ser Jory," he said, pointing to the other man.

"'Ello." Jory's hair was shaved close to his head and he was much stockier and well-muscled than Daveth. Both seemed pleasant enough to Serena.

"I'm Serena," she said mildly. "Pleasure to meet you both."

"Since you're all here, we can begin. You four will be going into the Korcari Wilds to perform two tasks." Duncan handed each of the three recruits a small empty vial. "The first is to fill these vials with darkspawn blood, one for each of you."

"What do we need darkspawn blood for?" Daveth asked quickly.

"And how are we supposed to get it?" Jory added. Serena thought she could hear a hint of fear in his voice.

"Well, you have to kill one, of course," Alistair said helpfully.

"I'll explain _why_ you need it once you've returned," Duncan replied, raising a hand to silence them all. "Second, there is a Grey Warden archive in the Wilds. It was abandoned long ago when we could... no longer maintain such remote outposts." He turned to Alistair. "It has recently come to our attention some scrolls have been left behind, and I'll need you to retrieve them if you can."

"What are the scrolls for?" Serena asked.

"Old treaties, if you're curious," Duncan responded. "Promises of support made to the Grey Wardens long ago. If this battle does not go as easily as the king hopes, they may come in handy soon." He put a hand on Alistair's shoulder. "Look after your charges, Alistair, and return quickly, and safely. May the Maker watch over you all."

Serena exchanged nervous glances with Daveth and pocketed the vial in her hand, hoping the small ball of tension in her stomach worked its way out by the time they spotted their first darkspawn.

**Author's Note:** Ryott is a crop grown in the southern parts of Ferelden near the Korcari Wilds, much like barley or wheat. It's a rich protein source valued all over Ferelden, but is notoriously hard to grow. It can also be converted into a base for ale. (I devour codex entries and manuals from the table top version of the game like reading is going out of style, so a lot of the town names coming up that don't appear in the game come from there.) source: Dragon Age Table Top Manual/ Blood of Ferelden.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 – _Into The Wilds_

Serena had wondered why it would take days for her brother Fergus to return from his scouting mission in the Wilds. Now that she was in them, she saw why.

The Korcari Wilds were very different from the coniferous forests that covered the land north of Ostagar. There was a thick mist that seemed ever-present, covering the low hills and ruins around their small band as they left the guard station behind them.

Swampy ponds seemed to dot the landscape, causing the ground in some spots to be more mud than dirt. As Serena felt one boot sink into the soft ground, she grabbed onto the nearest thing, which happened to be Ser Jory. He took one look at her rapidly disappearing foot and heaved her up, tossing her easily a few feet away.

"Oh, thank you," she said breathlessly, leaning over to secure her boot back on. She pulled some twine from her knapsack and laced it through her boots, tightening them around her legs.

"Think nothing of it, miss," the knight replied. "You practically weigh nothing."

"Are you sure you'll be able to handle yourself around these darkspawn brutes?" Daveth asked, sidestepping the mud Serena had gotten caught in. "If a bit of mud can fell you so easily..."

"Can I help it if I'm used to the sandy northern coasts, instead of this mucky southern swamp?" Serena kicked at a fallen branch and it skittered into the nearby water. "As if it being colder wasn't bad enough, the ground is basically mud."

"Guess I'm used to it," Daveth replied, taking the lead and stepping carefully from one dry spot to the next until they reached the rockier hills beyond. "I grew up in a village 'bout a day's trip to the east. This muck is practically like home."

"So that explains it," Alistair said, grinning at Serena. "You're basically a Wilder, eh, Daveth?"

Daveth shrugged. "I haven't been back in years, actually. Struck out for the city as soon as I could outrun my pa." He flipped a short dagger in his hand idly as he spoke. "I've been in Denerim for... oh, six years now? That town's just as dirty as the next, but it's got more purses than you could imagine."

"Wait, so you're a cutpurse?" Serena asked, her tone openly suspicious.

"And a pickpocket, but, don't you worry your pretty noble head about it," Daveth said. "I'm through with all that now."

Alistair laughed. "Oh yes, I'm sure. What happened? Someone finally catch you?"

"Funny story, that," Daveth said, the dagger still flipping up and down. "I cut Duncan's purse while he was standing in a crowd in the market. He caught me, but I bolted... I'll tell you the old bugger can _run!_ But the garrison caught me first." He sighed. "I'm a wanted man in Denerim, you see, so they were going to string me up right there..."

"What happened then?" Ser Jory asked.

"Duncan stopped them, if you can believe it! Invoked the Right of Conscription right there! I gave the garrison the finger while I was walking away. Guess Duncan saw I was quick with a blade, and since he saved my life and all, I decided to give up the life in honor of him."

"How generous of you," Serena said, rolling her eyes.

"Hey, fat lot of good stealing is going to get me if we're all dead from them darkspawn, right?" Daveth said. "I'm just here to do my part now, stop the Blight and all that. I'm living on borrowed time as it is."

Serena considered this for a moment. Maybe she wasn't so different herself. If Duncan hadn't come along, she may well have died along with the rest of the castle...

"So, what about you, Ser Jory?" said Serena, turning to the stocky man. "Alistair told me you're from Redcliffe?"

"Originally I served in Arl Eamon's retinue," the knight replied, one hand on his sword as they walked. "But a few years ago, I met my sweet Helena in the north. A year ago we finally married, and Eamon allowed me to transfer to Highever to be with her. Have you heard of it?"

"Heard of Highever? My father was lord of that town," Serena said quietly.

"Ah, my Lady Cousland, I'm honored." Ser Jory bowed awkwardly. "I apologize. I didn't recognize you."

"It's quite alright," Serena replied. "We're not in Highever now. You can just called me Serena. So if you were in Highever, how did you end up getting recruited?"

"Last month Duncan visited, and the bann held a tournament to honor the Grey Wardens. I won the grand melee." The knight shrugged, as if he won tournaments all the time. "It was difficult to leave my wife, she is heavy with child now, but... Ferelden needs my blade."

Alistair nodded approvingly. "Well said, ser knight."

"What about you, my la- miss... Serena?" Ser Jory faltered. "It is interesting that we both were recruited in Highever."

"Yes, Duncan came to the castle and I..." She paused, noticing Alistair was watching her intently out of the corner of his eye. "Volunteered."

"I ain't never met a noble who'd volunteer for _this_," Daveth remarked, his tone skeptical. "_Especially_ a woman."

"I suppose," Serena replied, shrugging. "It certainly seemed more exciting than learning how to embroider my name onto socks." She paused, eyeing the former thief. "How did you know I was a noble, anyway?"

Daveth shrugged. "My ma used to say if it walks like a duck and sounds like a duck... I've lived in Denerim long enough to know when somebody has something of value on them."

"Well, quack quack quack," Serena said, her voice brusque. "Although I don't have much you could steal now even if you wanted to... unless you like old lockets or books?"

"Those daggers of yours ain't no scrap metal," the stubbly rogue replied. "Them's silverite, I can tell. There's a stall in the market at the capital that sells a pair just like it. Dwarven."

"They were a gift from my father," Serena answered, pulling the daggers from her belt and spinning them in her hands. The metal flashed quickly in the sun. "They're probably worth more than my life, and I'd certainly hate for you to end up on the wrong end of them."

"Ah, point taken," Daveth said, quickly sidestepping to put the knight between them. "Of course, I'm done with all that, like I said."

Serena smirked, sheathing her daggers again. "Of course."

They moved through the wilds slowly, the ground flipping between grassy marshlands and rockier hills where the ruins of old temples stood. The whole place just gave off a feeling of foreboding.

She looked around slowly, pausing at the top of a hill. Alistair came up to stand beside her, his eyes focused on something in the distance. "Do you see that?"

"Is that...?"

The four moved forward, the ruins before them a collapsed hull of their former majesty. A tree had been felled, its roots torn right from the ground, and pushed into the crumbling side. Three bodies hung lifelessly from the downed tree, strung up roughly with bits of rope.

"Don't look," Alistair said, pushing himself in front of her, his arm out. Serena felt like she was transfixed, she couldn't look away from the bloated decaying faces above them.

"We... we ought to cut them down, right?" Jory asked, his voice faltering.

"And do what with them?" Daveth said, his eyes locked on the bodies. "We can't bury them."

"We could burn them," Serena said softly. "Make a small pyre..." She looked to Alistair, who had his eyes closed in concentration. She put a hand on his shoulder, rousing him. "What is it?"

"Darkspawn, I can... I can sense them." His mouth was set in thin line. "I think this is a trap."

Serena pulled her daggers quickly. She could see the others do the same. Daveth nocked an arrow into his bow, holding it at the ready. Right on cue, two enormous creatures came barreling down the path, rusted weapons raised.

"Flank them!" Alistair shouted, motioning for Serena and Daveth to split up. "Don't touch them if you can help it!"

The first darkspawn ran forward, its gait stilted by its own massive bulk and ill-fitting armor. The darkspawn had a green tinge to its mottled skin, and a huge mouth filled with small sharp teeth. It appeared to be smiling. Serena felt a shiver run down her spine at the sight of it.

Daveth pulled back his bow and Serena saw an arrow bury itself in the monsters semi-exposed chest. The stout darkspawn roared its displeasure, snapping the shaft right in two, the broken end still protruding from its torso. Daveth sent another arrow flying towards it, this one lodging itself in the monsters throat.

Serena moved in from the side, sliding one of her daggers into the darkspawn's back, running it through. The thing bellowed as she snapped the arrow in its throat, taking the rest and stabbing it into the creature's eye socket.

It's body jerked once on the ground and was still. Black blood seeped from its various wounds, and Serena recoiled quickly to avoid it making contact.

The second darkspawn, this one taller and more lithe than the first, crashed into Alistair, his shield pressed between them. He backed up quickly and slammed his shield into the darkspawn, knocking it to the ground. Ser Jory moved forward and sunk his sword into the stomach of the beast, black ichor staining the ground around it.

"Do you have your vial?" Alistair asked him. "Get some of this thing's blood while you can!" He pulled Ser Jory near the darkspawn corpse, and the knight fumbled, pushing a small glass vial near the gaping stomach wound.

Serena looked to Daveth, motioning that if he wanted, he could take the blood from the darkspawn they'd felled for his own vial. He nodded, pulling it from his pack and placing it at the fiend's throat. Thick sludge that passed as the creatures blood filled the tiny glass bottle slowly, despite its size. Serena watched it carefully, not noticing Alistair until he was right next to her.

"Why didn't you fill yours?" he murmured softly. "I liked the bit of improvisation with the arrow, by the way. I can see why Duncan recruited you."

"Yeah?" She shrugged, sheathing her daggers once again. "I'll get the next one." She gave him a sly look. "There's bound to be more around here."

"Yes," Alistair said, his eyes focused on the hills beyond. "I can sense them, just barely, but it's there."

"You said that before, that you can... sense them. Why is that?" He looked at Serena and she felt the intensity of his gaze. Sometimes she wondered if he wasn't trying to look _through_ her instead of at her.

"It's the Joining," he said vaguely. "You'll see." He turned away, his hazel eyes seemed to almost cloud over, as if he was mentally blocking her out. "We need to keep moving, the Grey Warden cache should be a few hours walk yet. I'd also like to move away from these..." He indicated the hanging bodies. "...In case any more of our darkspawn friends want to try to ambush us..."

They were fifty yards from the clearing with the hanging men when they heard a man crying. Serena sprinted forward, kneeling by the prone man. Blood, presumably his own, covered the ground around him.

"Are you... can you hear me?"

"Who... is that?" The man tried to open his eyes, his head barely lifting from the ground. "Grey... Wardens...?" A tremor went through his battered body and Serena felt her stomach twist.

"Well, he's not half as dead as he looks, is he?" Alistair quipped, his eyes on the man's wounds. Serena frowned at him, placing a gentle hand on the poor man's shoulder.

"Can you tell us what happened?" she asked, hoping her voice sounded more calm than she felt.

"My s-scouting band was at-attacked by darkspawn!" the man cried, his hand reaching out and grasping at her desperately. Serena gasped at his strength as his fingers crunched her wrist against her gauntlets. "They came out of the ground... Please, h-h-help me! I've.. I've got to... return to camp..."

"I have some bandages in my pack, one minute." Alistair kneeled down beside her, all traces of mocking gone. "Here, let me..." He pried the man's hand back from her wrist, and Serena rubbed the feeling back into it. She watched as Alistair removed the man's breastplate, examining his wounds. He grabbed one end of the bandage and put it in her hand, placing it on the man's stomach. "Hold it here, these will have to be very tight."

She did as he asked, slipping her hand out and helping him wrap the vicious slash across the scout's middle. The man groaned, but Alistair's bandages appeared to be holding as he tried to stand.

"I... thank you, all of you." The scout shook his head, as if he couldn't believe his luck that he had been found alive. "I- I'm sorry, but I've got to get back. I've got to get out of here... darkspawn..." He limped away, his form becoming smaller and smaller until he disappeared behind a hill.

"Thank you," Serena whispered, her hand touching Alistair's briefly. "I know it's not our job to... to be out here to rescue people, but-"

"If it were me, I would want someone like you to come along..." Alistair answered.

"Did you hear that man?" the stocky knight interrupted. "An entire patrol of seasoned men, killed by darkspawn!" Alistair turned to the man, his shoulders set.

"Calm down, Ser Jory. We'll be fine if we're careful. We took care of those last ones quickly enough."

"Those soldiers were careful, and they were still overwhelmed! How many darkspawn can the four of us slay? A dozen? A hundred? There's an entire ARMY in these forests!"

"There are darkspawn about, but we're in no danger of walking into the bulk of the horde." Alistair's voice was calm, but Serena thought she could detect a note of exasperation.

"How do you know?" Ser Jory insisted. "I'm not a coward-"

"Could have fooled me," Daveth muttered darkly.

"-But this is foolish and reckless! We should go back."

"Overcoming these dangers is part of our test, Ser Jory," said Serena.

"And know this, all Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn. Whatever their cunning, I guarantee they won't take us by surprise." Alistair narrowed his eyes at the knight, willing him to stand down and fall in line. "That's why _I'm_ here."

"You see, ser knight? We might die, but at least we'll be _warned _about it first," Daveth said, much louder this time. Serena shoved at the rogue, and he grinned at her. "What? He's being a crybaby."

The knight put his hand on the hilt of his sword, his eyes narrowed angrily. "Shut it, thief."

"I just calls them like I sees them, knighty-poo," Daveth replied, his own dark eyes flashing dangerously.

"So, if we're all done with the little pissing match here, I'd like to fill my vial of darkspawn blood sometime today," Serena said loudly, pulling a dagger and heading down the path beyond the scout. She could hear the men fall into step behind her, and they didn't have to wait long before a new group of darkspawn appeared before them.

Serena engaged the first beast quickly, dancing around the huge slashing thrusts of his rusted battleaxe. It was one of the squatter darkspawn, a random assortment of chainmail and leather straps crisscrossing his bulky green body.

Serena zeroed in on the exposed portion on his back and dodged another of his lunges, kicking out with one foot to its back and knocking the darkspawn forward to the ground. She slammed her boot down on its spine and dropped to a knee, driving her dagger deep into the base of the creature's skull. It jerked once and she quickly plunged her second dagger into the side of its neck.

She looked up to see the other three men had surrounded two trapped darkspawn archers, stabbing them relentlessly with their blades. They made quick work of the duo, returning to her side as she pulled her vial and collected the black ichor oozing from her own downed darkspawn.

"So, how about we find that cache?" she asked, her grin feeling nothing short of wild. She didn't know what it was, but something about destroying these devilish creatures helped her fight the anguish she'd felt overcome her in random moments since she had escaped the castle in Highever. Her mother and father had wished her to live, to make her mark on the world, and she would be _damned_ if she wouldn't do her best to live up to that for them.

She owed them that much.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** I take a bit of liberty with Alistair's personality here and there. He's a bit more mature, although still very much the awkward goofy virgin. I always felt like the life he's lived, filled with disappointment until Duncan 'rescued' him, would have made him much more understanding and sympathetic in some of these moments with the human noble female than he appears in-game. Also, I'm sure they have many more dialogue time restraints than I do here, so hooray! I hope you all enjoy, and an extra special _thank you_to my reviewers and followers. You guys are the best!

Chapter 13 - _A Bit of Fireside Conversation_

Evening fell quickly as they moved through the swampy lands. Alistair led them to a small ruin northeast where they could camp relatively safely for the night. It was one of the few structures Serena had seen so far with part of a ceiling still intact. "We'll continue the search in the morning," he said. "There's no sense in running about in the dark when we don't have to."

They split into two groups, Daveth and Serena gathered nearby branches and set about building a warm fire to offset the freezing mist that had settled in the valley while the knight and Alistair set up two tents for them to share.

Once the fire was blazing, Daveth turned to the other men. "Just two tents then...? Interesting." The rogue paused, as if he was deciding something. "Well, I'm bunking with Serena."

"Funny," Alistair said, although his tone sounded much less than amused. "We only set up two because half of us will be on watch." He glanced at Serena, who let out a relieved sigh. "Nobody is bunking with the lady."

"On that note, I think _I'll_ take first watch," Serena said, setting her pack down near the fire. She rummaged through it, pulling out a small leather bound book.

"Well, if I'm to sleep all by my lonesome, I suppose I should get a move on," said Daveth with a fawning look to Serena. "Positive you want to stay out here in the cold, my lady?"

"You know, that is just... _so_ tempting, Daveth, but I'm really just not tired. At all. Ever. I don't even sleep, actually." She wiggled her fingers at him. "Goodnight!"

"If neither of you mind, I'd like to retire for the night myself," Ser Jory said quietly. He nodded to the two of them, and disappeared into the second tent, shutting the flap.

Alistair watched him for a moment, shrugged, and took a seat near Serena at the fireside. "I guess we're on first then," he said pleasantly, eyeing the book in her lap. "Is that a journal or something?"

"Mostly it's just a... I don't know," Serena admitted. "I write in it sometimes, but a lot of it is drawings." She looked up and her blue eyes locked onto Alistair's hazel ones. "I never thought I would leave Highever, you know? I thought... I thought the best I would ever do would be married off to some... some bann's wealthy son or something. It wouldn't be the worst life, but I guess I kept this journal to sort of... mark down all the things I hoped I would someday see."

She handed the book to Alistair, who took it and started to turn the pages. She saw his eyes go wide as he took in all the intricate drawings she had made.

"This is..."

Serena held her breath, waiting for him to laugh at how silly it all was. She was a teynir's daughter, he probably thought. She could just go about doing whatever she wanted, with no need to do any real work a day in her life. Serena frowned as she realized that was true.

"...Amazing," he finished. Alistair held the book lightly, as if afraid he might damage it. "You even added little notes about them..." He closed the book and handed it back to her. "Is that why you... _volunteered_... to join the Wardens?"

Serena sighed. "I... may have exaggerated that part, a bit," she said. "I did want to join, very much, but... oh, Maker..." She felt hot tears pierce her eyes and she wiped them back. "I'm sorry."

Alistair scooted closer to her, putting a hand over hers. "You don't have to tell me anything," he whispered to her. "_I'm_ sorry, I shouldn't have pried."

"It's… it's okay," Serena said, her voice faltering. "I... you should know." She turned her hand and their fingers intertwined. Serena felt like she was gathering strength from him. "What I said was true, about Duncan coming to the castle. He was a guest of my father's. He had come to test one of our knights- Ser Gilmore."

"The night he came, another man, Arl Howe, was preparing with my father to ride south, here, to Ostagar. He sent my brother Fergus ahead with Highever's men, so the castle was nearly empty of guards, except for a small garrison to stay while they were in the south. That night, Howe's men attacked us." Alistair gasped, shock written all over his expressive face. Serena felt his fingers tighten on hers.

"They came into my room..." she continued, her voice quiet. "Luckily I had readied my things to ride to the wall with my father in the morning, otherwise... I would not have been prepared to defend myself. I... killed the men in my room, and my mother came along shortly after. We fled through a passage near my room to try to find my father."

"Duncan... D-Duncan saved him." A new tear streaked its way down her cheek. "One of Howe's men stuck him in the... he was wounded, but Duncan carried him to a servants exit in the kitchen. We met him there, and soon after Duncan came back. He told us the castle was surrounded, and my father begged him to get me and my mother to safety." She gulped and more tears fell.

"He a-agreed, but said he needed a recruit- _that's_ when I volunteered. I had wanted to join anyway when I'd met Duncan during the day, but my father wouldn't hear it then. Now... he had no choice. Duncan offered to take my mother, but..." Serena dropped her head, her tears coming quickly now.

"She stayed behind, didn't she?" Alistair asked softly.

"She said I would... I would have a better chance- a better chance to survive without her. That she would p-protect Father while we escaped. I left them both... I left them both to die." The tears streamed from her eyes, and Alistair felt his heart break for her. He pulled her to him, holding her as she sobbed into his shoulder.

Serena's shoulders shook with each sob, and Alistair wondered if she had given herself time to properly grieve for her family, for everything she had lost so quickly. He stroked her hair, murmuring sympathetic phrases in her ear.

"You didn't abandon them," he whispered, hoping his voice was somewhat close to soothing. "Your mother wanted you to live..."

"I'm so s-sorry," she whimpered. "I... you've... you've barely known me for a d-day and h-here I am, bawling all over you..." She pulled away from him and straightened, wiping her face. He handed her his handkerchief silently and she took it, rubbing at her eyes. "I apologize," she said formally, her cheeks still red from crying. "I shouldn't have-"

"I asked," Alistair interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad you told me, I think... I think it was good for you, too."

She nodded, pulling a ribbon from her hair and tossing the long brown tresses out. She re-braided it quickly, and Alistair thought it might have been just so she had something to do with her now restless hands.

"I never used to cry," she murmured. "I... ever since it happened, it feels like my emotions are so close to the surface now."

Alistair considered this for a moment. "Perhaps it is a strength, to feel such... to feel so passionate about things. Maker knows I am often accused of not thinking with my head as much as I should."

"Maybe," she agreed, her voice uncertain. "Still... I shouldn't have... I'm sorry. You barely know me…" Serena dropped her eyes, focusing on the fire. "You probably don't think much of me now," she mumbled.

"I think you've dealt with a great deal of change in a short amount of time," Alistair said seriously, one hand dipping under her chin so her eyes were level with his again. "If this is the first time you have truly let yourself _feel _since... since your parents, then I would say you have handled things much better than I would have."

"Thank you." Serena felt her face flush red. She held his crumpled handkerchief in her hand. "I... should fix this. I saw a stream just over there, I'll be right back." Before he could stop her, Serena stood up and headed into the darkness.

The water was chilly and felt refreshing against her overly warm skin. Serena hated crying, especially in front of people she barely knew, _especially_ a handsome man she barely knew, and the water felt like it washed away the stains her tears had left on her face. She soaked the wrinkled kerchief in the water, hoping she hadn't ruined it.

To her right, she heard a low growl come from the bushes. Serena backed up from the stream, pulling her daggers from her sides. "Don't even try it," she called to the darkness. "I'm in a very bad mood, and feeling pretty damn stabby right about now."

A huge black wolf stepped forward, its yellow eyes glowing in the gloom. Serena planted her back foot in the ground, her daggers glinting off the little light she could still see from the camp beyond. "I'm serious, Wolf. I don't want to hurt you… b-but I will, so you'll do best to just walk away." The wolf seemed to consider this, as its head turned side to side.

Two more wolves moved forward then out of the bushes, and Serena realized she was surrounded. The first wolf took another step forward, and she readied herself for its attack.

Instead, the black wolf bowed its head at her, turning instead to stand next to her. It bared its teeth at his fellows, an obvious warning to back away. Serena didn't understand what was going on, but it appeared like the wolf was... defending her?

The other two wolves seemed as confused as she was, exchanging looks to each other. They turned back to her, and growled. One of them charged at her and the black wolf, while the other let out a deafening howl.

"Serena?" She could hear Alistair's shout from the ruins, but he was too far. She saw the wolf beside her slam itself into its brother, snarling wildly. She backed up against a tree, grabbing a low branch and swinging herself forward to kick the howling wolf in the throat.

It turned and attacked, grabbing her boot and tearing it off. She swung again and landed back on the ground unsteadily, reaching out a hand to grab at the wolf's scruff as he bit into her now-empty boot. The wolf yelped, and she pulled harder, using her dagger to slide across its throat. A soft whine escaped its mouth before it dropped at her feet, dead.

She looked over to see her huge black wolf pin the smaller gray one below him and rip into its throat. The wolf made a sick gurgling sound in what was left of its throat and laid still.

"Serena!" Alistair appeared out of some bushes, his sword brandished. "Maker-" He made to lunge forward with his shield at the black wolf, and before she knew what she was doing Serena felt herself move between them.

"Don't!" she shouted, putting her hands out before him. "He's good- he helped me!" The wolf slunk out from behind her, blood still dripping from its muzzle. It rubbed its furry head against Serena's thigh tenderly.

"What the..." Alistair's sword dropped to his side as he took in the scene. Two dead wolves lay in the clearing, Serena standing over one of them, while a third wolf stood beside her. He would have mistook it for a somewhat friendly, if thoroughly intimidating dog, if he hadn't seen it take down the other wolf at her feet. "Did you just say he's _good_?"

"I think he's just hungry," Serena said quietly, one hand on the head of the wolf. Was she scratching it between the ears? If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, Alistair wouldn't have believed it. "I have some rabbit jerky in my pack he can have," Serena was saying.

"Hungry? I think his little friends were pretty hungry, too." Alistair's eyes dropped to the two wolf corpses nearby. "I don't even... let me get this straight. These wolves attacked you." He pointed to the two dead wolves. "And this one... saved you? Protected you?"

"Let me just take him back to the camp, feed him some jerky, and I'll tell you what happened." She picked up something from the ground and handed it to Alistair. He realized it was his handkerchief. With a resigned sigh, he followed Serena back to camp.

"I went to the stream to wash your handkerchief," Serena said, rummaging in her pack and pulling out a pouch. The wolf was settled down beside her, his head lying at her feet. She handed some pieces of rabbit to the wolf, who gobbled them back quickly.

"Then I heard a growl." Alistair watched as Serena placed a hand on the wolf's head again, stroking its dark fur. "It was this guy... I thought he was going to attack me, and I pulled my daggers. But he didn't. I just... I just looked at him and I knew he wouldn't." She fed the wolf some more rabbit, emptying the pouch. "Then two of his friends showed up."

"And those were the two... on the ground?" Alistair was still having trouble believing what he had seen in the clearing.

"Yes. This guy... he should have a name, shouldn't he? This guy helped me. He defended me." Serena ran a hand along the back of the wolf, and it closed its eyes, completely at ease.

"Well, I... I don't know what to say. I've never even heard of this before. Wolves just... befriending people." He sighed, pulling out some of his own rations. "Here, give it to him. Maker knows we can gather some more in the morning."

"Do you think Duncan will know?" Serena asked.

"Possibly... I mean, you're not a mage, right? I know some mages have a special affinity for nature. They can... communicate with animals."

"Well, I can't talk to him," Serena said. "I mean, not... I don't know what he's thinking or anything. And I'm certainly no mage."

Alistair considered this, his brow furrowed in concentration. "You said you have a mabari, though?"

"Yes, he's with Duncan right now." She smiled, thinking of her beloved hound. "It's kind of funny, actually. A man came to the castle a few years ago. He was a breeder... I was so excited, I begged my father to let me go see his pups. I must have been fifteen or so... The man told me mabari's are special in that they choose their master." She paused, and Alistair could see her face relax at the memory. She looked even more beautiful when she smiled.

"I think he said the process is called imprinting," Serena continued. "But one of the pups took to me immediately. I still remember... he ran right up to me, and... I don't know if you've ever seen one of the pups? They're _still_ massive! He bowled me right over, you know, I'm not the biggest girl, and I was even tinier then." She giggled. "I... Oh, I was in _love_. The pup had these huge brown eyes that just said you're the one for me."

"And he let you keep him?" Alistair asked.

"Well, he didn't really have a choice. He told me once they decide, that's it. Whether I wanted the dog or not, he was mine for life. He said to think of the pup as a gift for the teyrn's daughter, but my father insisted on paying him regardless." Serena grinned at Alistair, her face made warm and rosy from the firelight. "That's how I ended up with Peanut."

"Wait. Wait... you named your mabari _war hound_... PEANUT?" Alistair's voice was nothing short of incredulous.

Serena simply shrugged. "He_ really_ likes peanuts."

"Hmm, maybe your new friend here sensed that, then," Alistair said with a laugh. "Not the peanut bit, but just that some people are really good with animals. Perhaps its as simple as that."

"Perhaps," she agreed, stifling a yawn.

"You should wake Daveth or Jory," Alistair said, watching her. "You've yawned about five times in as many minutes."

"No, no, I'm-" she yawned again. "I'm f-fine, really. Plus, I... don't want to leave you."

Alistair felt his eyes widen slightly in shock. Had she really just said that?

"If he's really just here because of me, I can't really leave you _alone_ with him, can I?" Serena insisted. Alistair sighed, he had thought she meant... he shook his head to clear it.

"You could just... rest your eyes a bit, then?" he suggested, hoping his voice sounded light and casual. He pulled his bedroll from his pack and handed it to her. "I won't tell anyone."

"Well..." she looked at the bedroll now in her lap longingly. "Maybe just for a few minutes..." She looked up at him and smiled. "You'll wake me, though, won't you? If anything happens, or, or anything. Deal?"

He nodded. "Anything, yes." He patted the bedroll. "Rest up."

Serena laid out the warm bedding next to the wolf and laid back. "Thanks," she whispered to the Grey Warden. "I owe you one." She closed her eyes and Alistair watched her slender form for a long while as her breathing became slow and steady. Her skin seemed to glow from the light of the fire, and he felt his lips curve into a smile at the sight.

In the six months since he'd become a Grey Warden, Alistair had wondered many times why there weren't more women who joined the mostly-male order. Watching Serena sleep soundly near the fire, her chest rising and falling in a delicate rhythm, he thought maybe now he had the beginnings of an answer.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note**: A super-sized chapter update! Also, thanks to my reviewers and followers, you guys truly are the best!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 14<span> - _Daughter of a Witch_

The next morning arrived bright and sunny. Serena felt warmer than she had in days, it appeared today would be a welcome break from the normally gloomy southern weather. She rolled over, soaking up the warmth of the bedroll wrapped around her, a hint of pine invading her nose.

Wait. _Pine?_ She straightened up and her head brushed the top of the tent.

Tent? How did she end up in a tent? The last thing she remembered was talking to Alistair by the fire, and he had told her to just rest for a moment... _Alistair!_ He must have awoken one of the others to take watch later, and carried her in here.

Serena felt her face flush with embarrassment. She really hoped she was mistaken... but how else had she ended up in here? And in his bedroll, too! She recognized that piney smell immediately… this was definitely _his_ bedroll.

"Oh, Maker," she whispered. "The others are going to think I'm such a... a _tart_." She quickly ran her hands through her hair, gathering it up in a tight bun. She put her palms to her cheeks, testing them. They still felt warm to her touch. Oh, bother. She flapped her hands quickly in an effort to cool her face. It would be of no use to her to wander out there with her face flaming red.

Satisfied that she didn't look like a cat that'd just got caught eating a delicious mouse, she pulled one of the tent flaps back and peeked out. The large knight was a few feet away, tending the newly blazing fire.

"Good morning," she said, ducking her head as she exited the tent. "Did you sleep well?"

"Ah, like the dead," Ser Jory answered. "The Grey Warden woke me around 3 or so. Told me not to mind the wolf, that you'd found it injured or some such thing and were allowing it to stay at the camp for the night." He frowned, shrugging his massive shoulders, as if it found a very odd request to be given in the middle of the night. "The wolf just slept, though."

"Oh, uh, yes," Serena mumbled. So Alistair had covered for her about the wolf, too. She supposed the truth was even more bizarre- that a wolf had just decided to befriend her- so he had concocted this injury story for the knight. "We- I fed him a bit of rabbit." She looked around for the wolf. "Has he left?"

"I don't think so," Ser Jory responded, turning back to the fire. "Last I saw, he was sleeping behind the tent you were in."

"And Alistair and Daveth? Where did they go?"

"Hunting, I think." Another disinterested shrug from the knight. Apparently he was still in a mood from the day before. "They'll be back soon, I'm sure." He stood up suddenly, turning to Serena. "Now that you're up, we should probably break down the tents and things. The Warden will probably want to get a move on soon."

They packed in silence, the two of them splitting the work between them. Serena took down the tent she had been in, giving the wolf a good scratch on the head as well. He opened one yellow eye at her touch, and Serena could have sworn she saw him smile, if it was possible for a wolf to do so.

"Good morning, good morning," Alistair called happily as he led Daveth back into their makeshift camp. "Glad to see you're all up." He deposited three rabbits and a large bird of some kind on a small blanket near the fire. Daveth dropped down to a knee, adding a bunch of roots and plants to the mix.

Serena kneeled by the pile, pulling a rabbit and setting about preparing it for breakfast. She skinned it carefully as Duncan had shown her, placing the fur coat near her knapsack. Alistair sat down beside her, plucking feathers from the bird. It was a hawk, Serena realized, as long red feathers started to gather in a pile at his feet.

They worked together to prepare all the food, and Daveth even created some sort of jelly glaze out of the berries and roots he had picked. By mid-morning, they were all packed up and well fed, including Serena's wolf.

She kneeled by the animal and scratched his head. "We're leaving," she said quietly, afraid the others would look at her funny if they knew she was talking to an animal. "You're welcome to come with us, but I can't guarantee your safety. And I can't bring you back into the main camp."

The wolf looked at her, its warm yellow eyes glowing gently even in the bright sunshine. The wolf pressed its nose to her hand once, and with one last look, slunk into the bushes nearby. She listened hard for a moment, but the wolf's crunching footsteps rapidly disappeared.

"So... _that_ was bizarre." Alistair's teasing voice was soft behind her.

"Tell me about it," Serena agreed. She turned to the Grey Warden and winked. "I'll try to keep my animal magnetism to a minimum from now on."

"Ah, good. That's... yes, you do that." Alistair flushed, clearing his throat. "Shall we get a move on then?"

"In a moment," Serena said, moving closer to him. She looked over his shoulder; Jory and Daveth were beyond the ruin, arguing over something. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "You carried me to the tent last night, didn't you?"

"Maaaaybe," Alistair said, echoing her tone from the day before when questioned about the mage. He shrugged. "Maybe I thought you needed a proper nights sleep."

"Well, maaaaybe I did," she replied, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I promise you won't always have to look out for me. I won't... let myself get run down like that again."

"Maybe I_ like_ looking out for you," Alistair said, his cheeks slightly pink. His hazel eyes searched her face, and Serena was struck again by how... _complicated_... he could be. Joking one minute and completely intense the next. She'd never met anyone like him. He was... an enigma to her, but a delightful one, if such a thing were possible.

"Well, I... appreciate it," Serena said finally, her eyes locked on his so he could see how sincere she was. "Last night was... rough, for me."

"And today will be better," said Alistair, his voice earnest. He squeezed her hand briefly, then dropped it. "The others will be waiting for us."

"Or arguing over which one has the bigger sword," Serena countered, following Alistair to where Daveth and Ser Jory stood.

They searched for the elusive Grey Warden archive in relative quiet for the rest of the morning until around lunch they came upon two trios of darkspawn, one after the other. Dispatching them quickly, Serena realized they were in the remnants of an old tower that still bore the symbol of the griffon.

"This must be it," Alistair said excitedly. He kneeled by an broken chest and Serena saw his hands disappear, rummaging around. "It's empty." He stood and cast a look around for another chest. "This has to be it, and it's empty!"

"Well, well... what have we here?"

Serena looked up from the chest to see a dark haired young woman staring at them from a stone ramp only a few yards away. How had she gotten so close without any of them noticing her? And better yet, who in the Maker's name was she?

"Are you a vulture, I wonder?" The woman slowly walked, no, _sauntered_, down the ramp. "A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned?" She moved closer, her pace almost matching that of a stalking wolf. Serena noticed her eyes, two bright amber orbs, and her mind flashed back to the wolf earlier.

"Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn-filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?" She stood only feet from Serena now, her slender arms crossed over her rather ample chest. "What say you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder?"

"I... I am neither," said Serena. She wished her voice sounded stronger than it did. "Who are _you_?"

The woman's eyebrows shot up, as if she wasn't used to being challenged. Indeed, if she lived in these Wilds, perhaps she wasn't. "You are the intruder, here. I believe the first question is rightfully mine." She smiled, an extremely predatory flash of teeth. "I have watched your progress for some time," she said, and her tone was surprisingly thoughtful. "Where do they go,' I wondered, "why are they here?"

She turned and stalked around their group, standing on a rocky outcropping at the edge of the ruined tower. The woman wore strange robes that dipped very low across her chest, leaving little to the imagination. She certainly didn't look like any of the mages Serena had ever seen, but her large staff was unmistakably marking her as one.

"And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so long. Why is that?"

"Don't answer that," Alistair whispered to Serena from behind. "She looks like one of the Chasind, and that means others may be nearby. This could be another ambush."

The dark-haired woman laughed merrily, as if this was a hilarious notion. "You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?"

"Yes..." Alistair exchanged an uneasy look with Serena. "Swooping... is bad."

"S-she's a Witch of the Wilds, she is!" Daveth yelped. "I used to live near these Wilds, and my ma told me all about 'em! She'lll... turn us into toads, she will!"

"Witch of the Wilds? Such idle fancies, those legends." The woman peered at them, her cold amber eyes intense. "Have you no minds of your own?" Her gaze fell on Serena, and she stiffened. The woman hadn't harmed them, certainly, but there was definitely something eerie about her. And those eyes...

"You there," she said, pointing at Serena. "Women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

"My name is Serena," she answered. "A... pleasure to meet you, miss."

The woman jumped from her high perch, now directly in front of Serena. "Now, _that_ is a proper civil greeting, even here in the Wilds." She smiled again, her eyes flashing. "You may call me Morrigan."

"Shall I guess your purpose?" Morrigan continued. "You sought something in that chest, something that is here no longer...?"

"Here no longer?" Alistair crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed accusingly at the dark haired woman. "You took them, didn't you? You're... some kind of... sneaky... witch-thief!"

"Alistair..." Serena murmured. "Shhh."

"How very eloquent," Morrigan taunted. "Enlighten me, how does one steal from dead men?"

"Quite easily, it seems!" Alistair shot back. "Those documents are Grey Warden property, and I suggest you return them." He straightened his shoulders so he was standing at his full height, making him easily a half a head taller than Morrigan. "Immediately."

"I will not, for 'twas not _I_ who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish..." Morrigan leaned on her staff lazily. "I am not threatened."

"You're _going_ to be threatened in a minute if you keep this up," Alistair mumbled.

"Could you tell us who removed them, then?" Serena asked, hoping the witch hadn't heard Alistair. "If you know. Please."

Morrigan shrugged, as if this knowledge was widely known by everyone in the Wilds. "'Twas my mother, in fact."

"And could you... take us to her, perhaps?" Serena hoped she wasn't pushing their luck.

"Ah, now there is a sensible request." Morrigan eyed her curiously, and that predatory grin returned. "I_ like_ you."

"Oh, joy." Alistair said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'd be careful, Serena. First it's 'I like you...' but then 'Zap!' Frog time."

Daveth turned to her, his eyes nervous. "You sure you know what you're doing? She's a _witch_. She'll put us all in the pot, just you watch!"

"If the pot's warmer than this forest, it'd be a nice change," Ser Jory said, rolling his eyes. Serena grinned at the knight. Apparently his cowardice didn't extend to supposed witches, only darkspawn, for which she was glad.

Morrigan cleared her throat. "Follow me, then, if it pleases you." She beckoned to Serena and the others.

"If it pleases you..." Alistair whispered mockingly beside Serena as they followed the dark haired woman through the trees. "And did you see what she was wearing? Yeesh."

Serena giggled. "Alistair..."

"What?" he asked innocently.

"I know you were a templar, but try not to antagonize the apostate, please," Serena said. She tried to keep a disapproving look on her face but couldn't hold it. His smile was infectious. "You don't want to get turned into a toad, do you?"

They walked through the forest for a few minutes before Morrigan led them to meadow that bordered a large pond. The trees here were few, but the ones that grew, grew enormous and thick. Serena saw what looked like skulls dangling from one of the branches ahead. She elbowed Alistair and discreetly pointed. His eyes grew wide but he had the sense to stay quiet.

They continued for few minutes around the edge of the pond before the meadow started to turn back into foresty swamp. A few torches burned nearby, and Serena could see a huge granite statue marking the beginning of a set of stepping stones that led to a small wooden cottage. Serena crossed herself and sent up a silent prayer to the Maker as she noticed that the statue was of the prophet Andraste... and it was headless.

They approached the cottage and Serena noticed an old woman sitting in a rocker near the door. Wrinkles crisscrossed the woman's features as her piercing eyes locked onto Serena's for a moment.

"Greetings, Mother. I bring before you four Grey Wardens who-"

"I see them, girl." The old woman rose from the chair, and Serena was shocked to see her eyes were the same golden color as her daughters'. And as the wolfs'. The yellow eyes glanced over her and the old woman nodded. "Mmm... much as I expected."

"Are we supposed to believe you were expecting us?" Alistair stated, his tone skeptical.

"You are required to do nothing, least of all believe," the woman replied cooly. Beside her Morrigan grinned. "Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide... either way, one's a fool!"

"She's a witch, I'm telling you! We shouldn't be talking to her," Daveth said in a harsh whisper.

"Quiet, Daveth!" Ser Jory said, smacking the rogue in the shoulder. "If she's really a witch, do you want to make her mad?"

"There's a smart lad," said Morrigan's mother. "Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides. Believe what you will." She turned her amber eyes on Serena once again, one of her eyebrows arching in question. "And what of you? Does your woman's mind give you a different viewpoint? Or do you believe as these boys do?"

"I'm... not sure what to believe," Serena admitted, afraid her honesty would betray her inexperience.

"A statement that possesses more wisdom than it implies," the woman replied, nodding. "Be always aware... or is it oblivious? I can never remember. So much about you is uncertain... and yet I believe." She turned, nodding again. It appeared as if she was talking to herself as much as to Serena. "Do I? Why, it seems I do!"

"So _this_ is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds?" Alistair said out of the corner of his mouth. She could almost hear him roll his eyes.

"Witch of the Wilds, eh? Morrigan must have told you that." The crone cackled with delight. "She fancies such tales, thought she would never admit it! Oh, how she dances under the moon."

Serena smiled, unsure of whether to laugh with the woman or not. She certainly seemed mad, but also... powerful.

"They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother," Morrigan replied, her eyes rolling.

"True," the woman agreed. "They came for their little treaties, yes?" She pointed a long gnarled finger at Alistair. "And before _you_ begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. _I_ have protected these."

"You... oh." Alistair fumbled, his smirk disappearing momentarily. "You protected them?"

"See?" Serena hissed, elbowing him again.

"And why wouldn't I?" She handed the package to Alistair. "Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight's threat is greater than even_ they_ realize!" Beside her, Morrigan glanced at her mother sharply. Had she not known this piece of information? Surely living out in the Wilds, they were privy to the movements of the darkspawn horde.

"We thank you very much for returning them," Serena said, curtsying politely to the pair.

The old woman turned to her daughter, her face cracking into a huge grin. "Such manners! And always in the last place you look... like stockings!" She laughed at her own joke, flapping a hand at the four of them. "Oh, do not mind me. You have what you came for."

"Ah, time for you to go, then," Morrigan said, wiggling her fingers at them. Out of the corner of her eye, Serena saw Daveth flinch at the girl's movement and grinned.

"Oh, do not be ridiculous, girl. These are _your_ guests!" the old woman admonished her daughter.

Morrigan frowned, then rolled her eyes again. It seemed to be one of her favorite expressions. "Oh, very well," she huffed. "I will show you out of the woods then. Follow me." She marched off, not waiting to see if they followed.

Serena exchanged a nervous glance with Alistair, who shrugged, tucking the treaties into his pack. "Best follow her, I guess," he said quietly.

Morrigan wove through the trees like a mistress of the forest, avoiding all the marshy bits of ground. Serena found she had to walk nearly twice as fast as usual to keep up with her.

"Mis- Morrigan..." she said softly, catching up to the dark haired woman. "I wondered if I could ask you a question?"

"I think I know what you will ask, but go ahead."

"You... said you had been watching us for awhile, and I wondered if..."

Morrigan smiled at Serena, her teeth perfect and white. "Yes..?"

"If you were the wolf," Serena said simply.

"No," she answered. "But I know him. We have... run together before." Morrigan paused, and Serena thought maybe she was deciding how much to tell her. "I was curious about you, and so I sent him as an... emissary of sorts. He told me of your kindness towards him."

"H-he did?"

"Indeed. It was one of the reasons I chose to make myself known to you at the tower." She stopped walking and pointed. "Your camp is just beyond this ridge. I will not go any further than these trees."

"I- um, thank you, again," Serena said softly. "For everything."

"'Tis nothing," the dark haired mage replied, waving a hand. She turned and Serena watched as she melted into the forest once again. Alistair shot her a curious look as Morrigan disappeared, but said nothing.

"I'll... tell you later," Serena whispered, moving to walk at his side.

The four trudged back into the camp just as night was falling. Moving into the Grey Warden camp, Serena saw Peanut and Duncan ahead, the hound lounging lazily by an enormous fire.

"So you return from the Wilds," Duncan called, waving them over. "Have you been successful?"

"Yes, we have our... blood, and the treaties." Serena pulled out her vial of blood and motioned for Alistair to hand Duncan the package from his knapsack.

"Good," Duncan said, nodding. "I've had the Circle mages preparing- I'd hoped you'd all be back by tonight." Duncan took the vials from each of them. "With the blood you've retrieved, we can begin the Joining immediately."

"Oh, maybe we should tell you about..." Serena began, turning to Alistair.

"Right, right," he said, catching on. "There was a woman at the tower, and her mother had the scrolls. They were both... very odd."

"Were they wilder folk?" Duncan asked.

"I... don't think so. They might be apostates... hiding from the Chantry."

"Ah, I know you were once a templar, Alistair, but Chantry business is not ours. We have the scrolls, let us focus on the Joining." He led them up a cracking staircase to where a small altar sat.

"We Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Fate may decree that you pay your price now, rather than later," Duncan said.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Ser Jory asked.

"Is that why the Joining is so secret?" asked Serena.

"If only such secrecy were unnecessary," Duncan replied, sighing heavily. "If all understood the necessity of such sacrifice... Sadly, that will never be so. I must prepare the chalice. Alistair, if you would please watch our charges here..."

"The more I heard about this Joining, the less I like it," Ser Jory muttered darkly, leaning against a nearby pillar.

Daveth snorted. "Are you blubbering again?"

"Why all these damned tests?" the knight replied hotly. "Have I not earned my place?"

"Maybe it's tradition," Daveth said, rolling his eyes. "Maybe they're just trying to annoy you. Not that it would be very hard."

"Calm down, both of you. You chose this," Serena said, frowning at the stocky knight. "Stop acting like they plucked you out of your bed at night and stole you away." She crossed her arms over her chest. "_I won the grand melee_," she taunted. "Pfft."

"I only know that my wife is in Highever with a child on the way," Ser Jory grumbled, his eyes narrowing angrily. "If they had warned me... it just... doesn't seem fair."

"And would you have come if they'd _warned_ you?" Daveth retorted. "Maybe that's why they don't. The Wardens do what they must, right?"

"Exactly," Serena agreed.

"Including sacrificing us?" Ser Jory's eyes were wide with fear and Serena couldn't help but pity the man. Perhaps it was different for him, being married and having a child on the way... but if he had really been worried about that, he shouldn't have allowed himself to be recruited so easily. She was sure Duncan wouldn't have forced anyone to become a Warden against their will.

"I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the Blight," Daveth was saying earnestly. "You saw those darkspawn out there, ser knight. Wouldn't you _die_ to protect your pretty wife from them?"

The knight fumbled for an answer. "I... well..."

"Maybe you'll die. Maybe we'll all die." Daveth clenched his fists, his face flushing. "If nobody stops the darkspawn, we'll all die for sure!"

Ser Jory dropped his eyes, and Serena thought he looked like he might start crying. "I've just never faced a foe I could not engage with my blade," he mumbled.

Serena glanced at Alistair as he had been strangely quiet throughout the entire exchange, but he appeared to be off in his own world. Moonlight glinted off his blondish hair and Serena found herself staring at him. She shook her head to clear it just as Duncan returned.

"The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight," he began. "When humanity stood on the verge of annihilation. So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint."

"We're... going to drink the blood of those... those creatures?" If he hadn't before, the knight sounded downright terrified now. Duncan nodded, either not noticing or ignoring Ser Jory's obvious discomfort at the idea.

"As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you," he continued, coming to stand next to Alistair. "This is the source of our power and our victory."

"Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint," Alistair added, snapping out of his silent reverie. "We can sense it in the darkspawn, and use it to slay the archdemon."

"Those who survive?" Daveth said quietly.

"Not all who drink the will survive, and those who do are forever changed," Duncan replied, his tone even more serious and grave than usual. Serena could feel a small knot of excitement and fear intermingle in her stomach. "This is why the Joining is a secret. It is the price we pay. We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would?"

Alistair cleared his throat and began slowly, his voice steady and head bowed solemnly. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn." He paused, his deep voice lowering just a little. "And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day... we shall join you."

Duncan called Daveth forward with a wave of his hand and passed him a large ivory chalice. The rogue wasted no time and with a quick look at the knight tipped it to his lips. He gulped it back quickly, as if hasty to get the blood out of his mouth. Handing the cup to Duncan, he stepped back and shuddered, his body quaking slightly.

Suddenly he clutched at his head and bellowed, his body doubling over in pain. Serena leaned forward to help him but he waved her away with a clawed hand, his knees buckling under his weight. Serena gasped as he choked and writhed, grasping at his throat uselessly, his eyes turning a milky white as if he were blinded.

Finally, his energy spent, he fell forward and lay still. Duncan stepped forward and put two fingers to his neck, shaking his head at Alistair. "I am sorry, Daveth," he intoned. He turned to the knight who was visibly shaking now.

"Step forward, Jory."

The knight threw out his hands, as if trying to create space between him and Daveth's body, or perhaps him and Duncan. "But... I have a wife! A child!" He shook his head and Serena saw the whites of his eyes shine in the moonlight. "Had I known..." he moaned.

Duncan ignored this, refilling the cup with Jory's vial. "There is no turning back."

"N-n-no! You... ask too much!" He turned to Serena and Alistair, his eyes pleading with them to understand. "There is no glory in this!"

"This isn't about glory, Jory," Serena said softly. "We have a... a duty." Beside her, Alistair nodded his silent agreement.

The stocky knight turned back to Duncan and shook his head again, pulling his sword. "I.. I will not die like this! Not for those things!" Duncan pulled his own sword and advanced on the knight, his face grim.

"Don't do this, Jory," Duncan murmured.

"_No!_ I-" He moved quickly, rushing at Duncan. Duncan parried the blow deftly and Serena saw him pull a dagger in one smooth motion and run it into the knight's gut. Blood splattered the stones of the temple and Serena had to look away. The sick sucking sound Duncan's dagger made as it pulled out made her stomach turn.

"I am sorry," Duncan whispered as he pulled his dagger from the man's gut. The knight grabbed at his stomach, but it was too late, his insides were spilling out under him as he fell to the ground. Serena shut her eyes tight- she couldn't watch this.

"The Joining is not complete," Duncan said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Serena opened her eyes and glanced down at the cup. Duncan had refilled it once again with her vial of darkspawn blood. "You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good."

Serena took the chalice from Duncan, nodding slowly. "I know what is expected of me," she said quietly. "I accept my fate without reservation." She closed her eyes and tipped the cup to her lips, the black ichor sliding down her throat.

She handed the cup back to Duncan, her eyes starting to tear up. The intense feeling of burning seemed to stem from her throat to her stomach to the rest of her body, as if the blood was raging through her every nerve ending.

"From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden," Duncan intoned, stepping back from her. Serena could see Alistair's concern written all over his face and he moved forward to grab her shoulder.

Serena shook her head slowly; she could hear a roaring in her ears that seemed to come from somewhere far away and swayed on her feet, the burning pain becoming too intense for her to stand. She felt her body tip forward and then there was nothing but darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: **Thanks to all of you reviewing! I love reading your comments. To Serfius, yes, I've often wondered if Jory would have survived had he gone first, or even if he hadn't pulled his blade on Duncan, but alas. They sort of paint him as a cowardly fellow, so maybe he would have died or otherwise deserted anyway?

Chapter 15 - _Joined by Duty_

The Joining was always a bloody and awful thing to endure, whether you were the one drinking the blood or not, and this time was no different. Alistair watched as Serena lifted the cup to her lips and drank, poor Daveth and Ser Jory's lifeless bodies lying feet from her. Only one person had died in his Joining, and it certainly hadn't been from a dagger to the stomach.

He exchanged uneasy glances with Duncan as Serena swayed on her feet. Suddenly, she pitched forward, her eyes milky white, and Alistair rushed forward to catch her before she hit the stones. Her body hung limply in his arms, and he looked at Duncan, panic quickly rising in his chest.

"She lives," Duncan said, putting his hand to her forehead. He pulled it away quickly, and Alistair could feel the heat radiating from her pale skin. "I do not know how long she will be out. Do you need my help carrying her back to the camp, Alistair?"

"No, she's pretty light..." He swung his arm under her legs and lifted her up easily. "I've got her."

"I'll see if I can't find a mage willing to help us cool her skin... that fever is coming on quickly." Duncan disappeared down the stairs into the main camp as Alistair carried Serena's body back through the Grey Warden section of camp, thankful that the majority of the tents occupants appeared to be in the meal tent.

"Alistair? Is that you?" A tall man with a short black goatee strode toward him. "How did the Join- Oh." The man noticed the girl in Alistair's arms and frowned. "Is she...?"

"She'll survive," Alistair answered quietly. "She has a fever, though, I should get her to my tent. Duncan left to summon a mage." He nodded to his fellow Grey Warden and moved on, his arms starting to ache from the strain.

"Stay by her," the other Warden called behind him. "The Joining can have some unexpected side effects..."

They finally reached his tent and Alistair pushed the tent flap back with his foot. Gently laying her on his bedroll, he crawled into the tent beside her, worry creating a frustrated knot in his stomach.

A fine coat of sweat had broken out on her forehead, and Alistair took a cloth from his pack and wiped her face slowly. Her breathing was so jagged; she hadn't taken to the taint well at all. Not that anybody did, really, he reminded himself. But in his Joining, the other two men who had survived along with him were only down for a few minutes before they reawakened.

"Serena... I don't know if you can hear me," he whispered, his hazel eyes filled with concern. "If you can, I want you to know that I'm here with you. You're not alone anymore."

"Al...ster..." Serena murmured, her eyes fluttering. "Drag...gone..."

Alistair clutched her hand, shaking it gently. "Serena? Serena! Can you hear me?"

"Drag..." Serena's eyes opened briefly and her head lolled to the side. Alistair was relieved to see her blue eyes were no longer that eerie milky white. He put a hand under her head and lifted it gently. Her eyes blinked and tried focusing on his face, although she still appeared out of it.

"Burns..." she slurred, her hand grasping for him. "I..." She frowned, her eyes rolling to the side, and then fell limp again. Alistair laid her head back down, confused on what he should do for her. Shouldn't Duncan be back by now?

The tent parted and a Circle mage Alistair vaguely recognized crawled in.

"This is the... oh, it's her," the woman said. She waved a hand and Alistair felt a wave of cool air push through the tent towards Serena. "She is tainted?"

"It was the..." he paused, not knowing if he should divulge Grey Warden secrets to this old woman. "She... err... yes. Yes. She's tainted. But she'll survive, it's just... this fever?"

"I can't do much for the taint in her blood," the woman replied, her forehead wrinkling in thought. She pulled at Serena's armor, stripping it off her and tossing it to the back of the tent. "But I can cool her down, break the fever." Next came her tunic and leggings until Alistair realized she was lying in her small clothes, her pale skin made even more so by the fever. Her auburn hair appeared almost black in the contrast.

The mage put her hands over Serena's midsection, her eyes closing in concentration. Alistair could feel the magic flow from the older woman into Serena, and he saw her body visibly relax at the sensation, the tension in it broken.

"The fever should recess soon, but she needs rest." The white haired mage looked around cautiously. "Is this your tent, young man?"

"Y-yes. She doesn't have one yet, though," Alistair babbled, unable to help his nerves. Sick or not, he'd never had a nearly naked girl in his tent before, and the strain was getting to be a bit much. "I mean, she could have Daveth or- or Jory's, but we just got back from the Wilds and..."

"It's alright-" the woman interrupted. "Just let her sleep, maybe have some water waiting for her when she wakes up." She touched Serena's forehead, and Alistair saw the blue light of healing magic. "She should awaken in a few hours." She touched Alistair's blonde head and smiled. "You ought to get some rest as well, young man."

Alistair nodded, the fatigue and worry about to overwhelm him. The mage nodded again, and moved out of the tent. He heard her converse with Duncan briefly, then both of them walked off, their footsteps crunching the leaves around the camp.

He looked down at Serena again, covering her with a light blanket. Her face now looked cool and the fever seemed to have receded somewhat from the magic. He ran a hand along her cheek, pushing her brown hair away from her eyes. She could have been one of his little figurines, she was so still and peaceful looking.

Alistair leaned back, exhaustion from the day's events finally taking its toll on him. He removed his splintmail armor and put it in one of the crates at the back of the tent. It had been such a long day... Wolves, and witches, and the Joining. He could feel his eyes drooping.

Alistair sighed, his shoulders slumping and he soon drifted off to sleep, one arm resting on a crate. His other hand hung down at his side, still holding Serena's.

* * *

><p>Serena woke hour's later feeling groggy and disoriented. She could remember the Joining... Daveth had drank first and... <em>oh<em>. And then Jory had pulled his sword on Duncan and... there was a flash of him being cut down right in front of her. Then her own turn to drink had come and she had... collapsed? And then the dragon had come...

She peered about, the tent around her dark. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog and realized a large hand was pressed up against hers. She touched the hand hesitantly, feeling up the arm to the owner's face. The smell of pine was a welcome relief.

"Alistair..." she whispered. "Alistair, are you..." She poked him gently in the ribs and he started, grabbing her shoulders.

"Serena! Oh, _good_." He sighed with relief, and she felt him pull her into a hug. "I... we... we were so worried." Serena hugged him back, her body feeling awkward in such close quarters. Their bodies were a strange tangle together on the floor of the tent, but Serena was reluctant to let him go. And, oh, sweet Maker, he smelled terrific. She inhaled his scent and sighed, feeling better than she had in days.

"I have a lantern in here somewhere," he said in the darkness, hands fumbling around her. His hand landed on her thigh and she bit her lip, not knowing whether to brush it off or not. "Is that… oh, sorry..." he mumbled, and she could almost _hear_ his blush. "Ah. Here it is." Light blossomed in the tent, and they both squinted, their eyes adjusting.

"How are you feeling? Okay?" he asked tentatively, his hazel eyes searching her face.

"I think so... I mean, I feel pretty okay, but there was a dragon..." Serena looked down and her eyes went wide. "And I'm practically naked." Her eyes met Alistair's and she could feel her face grow hot. She threw one arm over her chest, hoping her breast band covered more than it normally appeared to. "I... uh..."

"Oh, right, uh..." Alistair fumbled; the great swathe of her bare skin appeared to be making him even slower to react. He pulled up a blanket from under him and held it up with both arms, hiding her from his view. "Sorry about that, the mage removed your clothes."

"What mage?" Serena asked from the other side of the blanket.

"Duncan summoned a mage for you, after the Joining... you had a fever, you... do you remember anything?"

"I remember Daveth and Jory..." He heard her sigh sadly, and knew she was thinking of the others who hadn't made it. "Then I drank and... collapsed, I think?"

"Yeah, you sort of swayed and fell. I carried you here." His tone was matter-of-fact but Serena pulled his arm down, lowering the blanket so she could see his face. "I... oh, _wow_. Uh." Alistair's eyes dipped down promptly and his face blushed a deep crimson. "Wow."

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't carry me anywhere anymore?" she asked, smirking, taking a small amount of pleasure in his awkwardness. Apparently the Grey Wardens didn't have very many women.

"W-what was I supposed to do?" he replied, his eyes flipping up to the tent ceiling. "You had _fainted_, and you had that fever..."

"Well, thank you... Again." She pulled the blanket from his grasp and wrapped it around herself in a thin makeshift dress. "I'm a lucky girl. You're like my white knight."

"Oh, I don't know about that... you didn't see me earlier," Alistair said, his eyes dropping to her face now that she had covered herself somewhat. "That poor mage probably thought I'd lost my mind, I was babbling so much."

"Well, it had been a long day, I'm sure you were exhausted," Serena offered lightly, trying to spare him his dignity.

"Oh yes, that was it," Alistair said, his eyes rolling. "It had nothing to do with the beautiful naked girl in my tent."

Serena laughed. "Flatterer. If I'm so ravishing, what's stopping you from babbling now?"

"Well, you put that blanket back on for one," he replied, grinning. "Plus, the Chantry raised me to be a gentlemen around ladies such as yourself."

"You mentioned that before, that you were raised by the Chantry."

"Ah, did I? Yes, well, you know." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Before that I was raised by wolves in the Anderfels, so..."

"Funny," Serena said, pushing on his chest. "And here I thought the Anderfels were much further north than Redcliffe..."

Alistair peered at her, his hazel eyes searching her face again. "You really do remember all I prattle on about, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Serena replied, readjusting her blanket so she could lie on her side comfortably. "How many friends do you think I have here?"

"Good point," he said. "Although I'm used to people just ignoring me."

Serena gazed up into her fellow Grey Warden's eyes. He looked so vulnerable, she wished she could just lean forward and give him a big hug. She wanted to comfort him like he had comforted her the night before. But maybe he would find that inappropriate? Instead she settled on putting a gentle hand on his knee. "Well, if you ever need to talk... _I'm_ here."

He put his hand over hers and his smile was warm. "I know," he said. He stretched, putting his hands behind his head as he laid back onto the extra blanket. "I don't suppose you'd be kind enough to let me stay here the rest of the night... It's gotten quite cold outside."

"As if you have to ask," Serena said, unfolding the blanket from around her. "It's _your_ tent, after all. Isn't it I who should be asking to stay?"

"True." He turned on his side and looked at her expectantly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well?"

"I... you..." Serena shook her head and straightened, allowing the blanket to fall to her waist. If he was going to play games, then so could she. She grinned as his eyes dropped briefly to follow the blanket. "May I stay the night? Please?"

"Oh, yes." Alistair blinked several times before finally laying back and staring at the ceiling of the tent, his face flushed. "You are an _evil_ woman. Truly."

"You seem to bring out the absolute worst behavior in me," Serena murmured to him, her voice low. "It's shameless."

Serena settled back onto the bedroll, covering herself with the blanket once again. She wished she could just shove her face into the pillow; his smell was so enticing to her. But she had been decidedly unladylike enough for one night. Perhaps it was the darkspawn blood that made her so brazen.

"And to think I used to be such a nice young man..." Alistair said wistfully, his tanned skin still carried some pink on the cheeks. "Alas."

"I don't think nice young men slay archdemons," Serena replied. She paused, thinking about the ritual from earlier. "Is there... anything I should be worried about? I won't turn green or anything, will I? I… I don't know what to expect now."

Alistair yawned, turning on his side to regard her. "You mean from the Joining?" She nodded. "Hmmm... did you have any dreams? I had _terrible_ dreams after my Joining."

"There... was a dragon," Serena said slowly. "It was a dragon, wasn't it?"

Alistair sighed, his eyes closing. "That was the archdemon, most likely. What you're hearing, the roaring, is it talking to the horde. Since we're tainted, we can hear it. Duncan can explain it better than I can, but eventually you'll be able to block out the dreams a bit." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Aren't you tired?"

At his mention of sleep, Serena yawned. "Oh... you're right." She snuggled into the bedroll, touching Alistair's hand lightly. "Thanks, again, Alistair. I mean it."

"I know you do." Alistair's voice was soft, and Serena saw him reach back with his other hand and extinguish the lantern. He squeezed her hand in the darkness. "Welcome to the Grey Wardens, Serena."


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note:**Thank you all for following the story and writing reviews! I enjoy reading them very much, and hope you all are enjoying the story!

Chapter 16 - _Battle Strategies_

Alistair awoke later that morning to the murmured words of prayer. He cracked open an eye slowly, careful to be absolutely quiet so as not to disturb her. Serena was sitting on her knees, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes closed. He noticed, a tad regretfully, that she had pulled on a shirt. Perhaps she found it indecent to pray while naked? His eyes dropped lower and Alistair grinned, realizing she still hadn't located her leggings yet.

"...Sweet Maker, I understand there is a price to pay for all things. I pray they stand by Your side, in the great Beyond, in a place where only Your light and Your love will touch them now."

Serena's voice was calm, the words coming easily from her lips. Although he had seen so many pray over the years, Alistair watched her, completely transfixed. Was she saying a prayer for Daveth and Jory?

"I pray that You give Alistair and my new brothers great prowess in this day and all days, for we shall need You always. It is we who stand before the darkness and corruption now; it is we who will not falter on Your path, for blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just. By Your love and our faith, may we be unshakable in our conviction on this day." Serena paused, her face rising to look at a sky she could not see. "Amen."

"That was beautiful," Alistair said softly.

Serena started at the sound of his voice, falling back onto her bottom. Her hair felt about her face and she smiled uncertainly. "I- I didn't know you were up. I apologize if I woke you."

"You didn't," Alistair replied, smiling. "Do you... pray every morning?"

Serena blushed, tucking her auburn hair behind one ear. It was in loose curls from her braid, and Alistair had the inexplicable urge to run his fingers through it. "I try to," she said. "I always enjoyed chapel at the castle as a child, and I suppose... the habit just stuck."

Alistair sat up, his great arms stretching wide. "Certainly there are worse habits to pick up."

"Do you pray?" Serena asked. He caught her eyes, and they were like deep sapphire pools staring into his own hazel ones. He found he could have stared at her all day if given half the chance.

"I... used to, in the Chantry," he said, shrugging gently. "Maybe I should again."

"If Morrigan's mother was right, we could certainly use the help." Serena sighed, unfolding her bare legs out from under her. Alistair couldn't help watching her every movement. She was like some delicate flower he wanted to wrap up and protect.

"Serena? Are you awake?"

Alistair froze, his eyes flipping to the front of the tent and then to Serena, whose face looked beyond guilty. That was _definitely_ Duncan's voice. Did he know Alistair was in here? Or did he assume he slept elsewhere?

"Yes, I'm just..." Serena shot him a look, a finger to her lips signaling him to be quiet. "I'm just getting ready."

"Well, when you are, can you find Alistair? I want both of you to accompany me to a meeting with the king."

Serena quickly popped back onto her knees and poked her head out of the tent to address Duncan. She still hadn't put on any pants and her tunic rode up her back as she stretched forward. Her skin looked so soft and pale, and he found it was leaving little to his imagination. Not that he didn't have a great imagination... but if he didn't get out of this tent soon, he was going to need a cold dunk in the river. For about an hour.

"With King Cailan?" Serena's voice was overly light. _She_, at least, sounded somewhat normal. Alistair shuddered to think what his voice would sound like right now. "What kind of meeting is it?"

Alistair picked up her discarded blanket and put it over his head, hopeful it would lower his rising blood pressure.

"We will be discussing strategy for the upcoming battle," Duncan was saying. "I am not sure why he has requested your presence, however. As soon as you are able, meet us in the clearing to the west of here, down the stairs." Duncan paused, and Alistair could hear him hand something to Serena. "I nearly forgot, this is for you. I shall see you both soon."

Serena scooted back into the tent and pulled the blanket off Alistair's head. "What did you have that on for?" she whispered.

Alistair shook his head, he could tell his face was still flushed. He shifted uncomfortably. "No pants," he said quietly, closing his eyes. "Do you _hate_ pants or something? Do you hate _me?_"

"What?" Serena looked down, realizing she was sitting in her underwear still. "Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry!" She fumbled around the tent, searching for her leggings. "I... they have to be here somewhere, right? I'm _so_ sorry, Alistair, I really didn't mean to-" She pulled her leggings from under the bedroll and quickly tugged them on, her slim body sliding into the thin fabric easily. Alistair shook his head, trying to get ahold of himself. Her cheeks were flushed pink as she smiled nervously at him. "Better?"

"No, not really," Alistair murmured, his head bowed and hands over his face. "I should go." He straightened his shirt, buttoning it back up. Oh, Maker, they both looked completely disheveled. It looked like they had spent the whole night... He sighed. "I'll meet you outside the tent in a bit, I just need a moment to myself."

"Then _I'll_ go," she said, getting up. "This is your tent. I'll... I need to go clean up anyway." She blushed again and turned, crawling out of the tent. Alistair heard her footsteps disappear rapidly, it sounded like she was running.

Alistair sighed heavily, his eyes rolling. He fell back onto the bedroll in a heap. Two days with this girl and he was already knee deep into it. His fingers went to his temples and he massaged them gently. He needed to _focus_. He joined the Grey Wardens to fight darkspawn, not to fall in love with pretty girls who spent an inordinate amount of time in their underwear.

The thought of Serena in her underwear sent him into another wave of giddiness and he rolled over, putting his face into the pillow. He breathed deep, even the pillow still smelled like her... like elfroot and some kind of flower he had long forgotten the name of. There was no way he was going to get around thinking about her in _here_.

He pulled a comb through his hair, running his hands over it. Checking a small mirror, he noticed he would need a shave soon, but that could wait. His splint mail armor was still in one of the crates, so he grabbed it and took his time strapping it on. The routine helped rescue him from his infatuation, banishing the tawdry thoughts from his mind. As an afterthought, he picked up Serena's boots and left the tent, heading to the river.

* * *

><p>The river was cold, but after the morning she'd had, it was a welcome relief to Serena. She scrubbed at her face, surprised at the amount of dirt that could accumulate on her in such a short period. She loosened out her long hair, leaning back and dunking it in the cool water. If the battle was soon, who knew when the next time she would get a chance to bathe would be? It whipped back as she straightened, and she wrung the thick mass out beside her back into the river.<p>

Serena pushed herself back up off the bank, running her fingers through her hair in order to tame it. Her skin still burned from her earlier encounter with Alistair. Serena didn't know _how_ she managed to embarrass herself at every turn around that man, but there it was, all the same. She twisted her hair into a chignon knot, like her mother had shown her, and tied it up. If she couldn't seem to _act_ respectable, at least she could try her best to_ look_ the part.

"Why couldn't he be ugly... or stupid or something?" Serena sat by the river pouting, her feet dangling in the water as it rushed by. "No more silliness," she told herself softly. "Or else you're going to end up on the wrong side of one of those monsters swords for sure."

"Not if I can help it." Alistair stepped out from between two trees and set her boots at her feet. "I thought you might want these." Serena remained silent, watching him out of the corner of her eye, reluctant to look him in the face for fear she would humiliate herself again.

He stepped forward and leaned down, putting his hands in the cool water and cupping it to his face. His cheeks had returned to their normal color and he appeared to want to pretend as if the awkwardness of the morning hadn't happened. They sat for awhile in peaceful tranquility, both just staring out onto the river.

"Duncan gave me this," she said, breaking the silence. "He didn't explain what it was, though." She pulled out the small pendent on a thin silver chain and handed it to him. It bore the symbol of the Grey Wardens on the front. Alistair took the pendent and held it up.

"We take some of the blood left from the Joining," he said. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "We usually put it in a pendant. It's something to remind us... of those who didn't make it this far." He paused, looking over and catching her eye for the first time since... earlier. "Would you like me to..?"

She turned her back to him and he clasped it around her neck carefully. She felt his fingertips on her skin for just a moment and then they were gone.

"You wear another necklace I noticed," Alistair said softly.

"Oh, it's my mother's. It was, anyway." Serena pulled the locket out from the front of her tunic, leaning in to show Alistair. "Inside is dried honeysuckle... my father picked it for her on the day I was born." She flipped the locket over, running her thumb over the crest on the front. "The two laurels..."

"...Are the symbol of House Cousland," Alistair finished for her. "I used to have an amulet of my mother's, too." He sighed wistfully. "I... it broke, unfortunately." He put his hands to his neck and pulled out a matching Grey Warden pendent. "I still have this one, though."

"Is your mother still...?"

Alistair shook his head. "No, she died when I was born. I'm told she was very beautiful, though. She was a maid, in Redcliffe castle." He trailed his fingers in the water.

"And your father?"

"He's gone now, too. I... never really knew my parents. Duncan's really all I have now, as far as psuedo-family goes... and the Grey Wardens." He looked into her eyes and she saw the melancholy cloud over his normally cheery face. "Maybe we ought to get going. Don't want to keep a king waiting, now do we?"

Serena nodded, unsure if she should say anything. Even though her parents were now gone, at least she had memories of them she could call upon anytime she wanted. Alistair didn't even seem to have that. She pulled on her boots and followed him into the woods.

* * *

><p>"Loghain, my decision is final." The king stood tall, his golden armor shining bright in the midday sun. He was glaring at another man that Serena vaguely recognized as the only other teyrn, now the <em>only<em> teyrn in Ferelden, General Loghain Mac Tir. "I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault."

They were leaning against a pillar next to the Revered Mother and another Circle mage, listening to the King and Teyrn Loghain rage at each other over tactics to use against the darkspawn in the night's battle. Duncan stood nearby, his face solemn as ever. Apparently this type of meeting was nothing new to him.

"You risk too much, Cailan!" Loghain's fierce eyes attempted to bore into the King's, and Serena exchanged an uneasy look with Alistair. "The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines."

"If that's the case, perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces to join us, after all," Cailan reasoned, turning on the furious general to glance down at the map they had stretched out on a table before them.

"I must repeat my protest to your fool notion that we need the _Orlesians_ to defend ourselves!" Loghain pounded an armored fist on the table and Serena could see Cailan's eyes narrow disapprovingly.

"It's not a _fool notion_," the king spat back. "Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past..." He turned on the dark haired man, his mouth set in a grim line. "And you will remember who is _king_ here."

Loghain put a hand to his head, as if speaking with this seemingly foolish man was a tiring thing for him. "How fortunate Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand Ferelden over to those who _enslaved_ us for a _century_!"

Beside her, Alistair stiffened at this, his eyes transfixed on the two angry men. "You know, they both have a point," he murmured to Serena. "Our quarrel with Orlais should end at the crown, and not extend to the Wardens... we barely have any in Ferelden now..."

"Then our current forces will have to suffice, won't they?" Cailan sneered at his father-in-law's back and turned to face Duncan. "Duncan, are your men ready for battle?"

"They are, your Majesty," Duncan said, his eyes flicking over to Serena and Alistair.

"And there you are, Lady Cousland," the king said, smiling delightedly at Serena. His eyes flicked to Alistair briefly but otherwise, he did not seem to notice him. "I understand congratulations are in order."

"Thank you, your Majesty," Serena intoned, curtsying swiftly.

"Every Grey Warden is needed now. You should be honored to join their ranks." Cailan smiled at her again, and turned back to Duncan.

"Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan," Loghain said from behind him. His mouth was set in a stern look as he regarded Serena and Alistair. "We must attend to _reality_."

"Fine," Cailan muttered, his good mood evaporated. He leaned over the map, Loghain coming to stand at his side. "Speak your strategy. The Grey Wardens and I draw the darkspawn into charging our lines and then...?"

"You will alert the tower to light the beacon, signaling my men to charge from cover," Loghain said, running his finger along the map while Cailan nodded.

"To flank the darkspawn, yes, yes, I remember. This is the Tower of Ishal in the ruins, yes?" The king paused, his brow furrowed. "Who shall light this beacon?"

"I have a few men stationed there," Loghain replied. "It's not a dangerous task, but it is extremely vital."

"Then we should send our best," Cailan responded, turning to Duncan. "Send Alistair and Serena, if you would, to make sure it is done."

"And here I thought he'd forgotten _my_ name entirely," Alistair muttered darkly.

"So we won't be fighting in the battle?" Serena whispered to him. Beside her, Alistair simply shrugged, his eyes narrowed at the king.

"You rely on these Grey Wardens too much, Cailan!" Loghain sized up Duncan with his eyes, his mouth very near what could be called a sneer. "Is that truly wise?"

"Argh, enough of your endless conspiracy theories, Loghain!" Cailan declared. "The Grey Wardens battle the Blight. They fight darkspawn. It's what they _do_. No matter _where_ they're from!"

"Your Majesty," Duncan began. His voice was quiet and calm compared to the other men. "You should consider the possibility of the archdemon appearing."

"There have been no signs of any dragons in the Wilds," Loghain scoffed, turning his back on the exchange.

"Yeesh, he sure is friendly, isn't he?" Alistair whispered to Serena. "Downright helpful."

"Isn't that what your men are here for, Duncan?" Cailan asked.

"I... yes, your Majesty." Duncan frowned, exchanging a dark look with Alistair.

Beside them, the Circle mage spoke up, his voice was high and snivelly. "Your Majesty, the tower and its beacon are unnecessary. The Circle of Magi-"

"We will not trust any lives to _your_ spells, mage!" The Chantry mother called, her voice carrying a surprising amount of venom. "Save them for the darkspawn!"

"Enough!" roared Loghain, his temper finally loosening on them all. "This plan will suffice. The... Grey Wardens will light the damned beacon."

"Thank you, Loghain," the king said, a smile once again lighting up his face. "I cannot wait for that glorious moment! The Grey Wardens battle beside the king of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil!"

"Yes, Cailan," Loghain said blandly. "A glorious moment for us all."

Duncan signaled to Alistair and Serena to follow him and they left the meeting while the king and General Loghain continued finalizing plans with the Circle and Chantry.

"You heard the plan," he said quietly as they headed back to the Grey Warden camp. "You and Alistair will go to the Tower of Ishal and ensure the beacon is lit." He sighed heavily, as if dealing with the whims of the king was an obnoxious process, but a necessary one.

"Wait, so we really won't be in the battle?" Alistair exchanged glances with Serena who nodded at him encouragingly. "I thought we'd all be fighting on the front lines. Why can't one of Loghain's men do it? They're already there."

"This is by the king's personal request, Alistair. If the beacon is not lit, Teyrn Loghain's men won't know when to charge-"

"So he needs two Grey Wardens, and not just any two Grey Wardens, but _us,_ specifically, up there holding the torch." Alistair snorted. "Just in case, right?"

"Well, it is out of our hands now, I'm afraid. If King Cailan wishes you two to ensure the beacon is lit, then Grey Wardens will be there." Duncan gave them both a significant look. "We must do whatever it takes to destroy the darkspawn... exciting or no."

"Pfft, I know what this is really about," Alistair said, his voice despondent. He held up a hand, motioning between himself and Serena. "We're being kept out of the front lines."

"Alistair, this is not the time..." Duncan began. It sounded like the beginnings of an old argument between the two of them.

"I get it, I get it." He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "Just so you know, if the king _ever_ asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no."

"I rather think I'd like to see that," Serena teased him.

"For you, maybe," Alistair said, winking at her. "But it has to be a pretty dress. Maybe something cut above the knee..."

"It _would_ be a shame to not show off those legs," Serena reasoned. They exchanged quick glances before both doubled over laughing.

"The Tower is on the other side of the gorge like you saw," Duncan said loudly, rolling his eyes. Serena could tell he wanted to smile but was holding himself back. "The way we came when we arrived, Serena."

She nodded, her face still broken into a huge grin.

"You'll need to cross the bridge, and head through the gate and up to the tower entrance." He pointed to the far end of the camp where Serena knew the bridge lead up the great tower. "From the top, you'll overlook the entire valley."

"When do we light the beacon?"

"We will signal you when the time is right. Alistair will know what to look for." Duncan waved to a tall Grey Warden as he passed. "You both should pack up your things, gather your hound from the kennel... the battle will begin soon. Once we leave, you will need to move quickly to the tower, you won't have much time."

"Could we join the battle afterwards?" Serena asked hopefully.

"I think it would be best if you stayed with the teyrn's men, and guard the tower. It would be diasterous for us all if the tower fell." Duncan paused. "If you are needed, we will send word. I want no heroics from either of you, though."

"With Loghain's men guarding the tower, we won't really be in any danger though, right?"

"Well, even the best-laid plans go awry, so do what you must. I trust you both."

"Just not enough to actually fight with the _rest_ of you," Alistair added, rolling his eyes.

"There will be plenty of battles, Alistair," Duncan said with a smile, patting the young man on the shoulder. "Be patient. I must go join the others. From here, you two are on your own. But remember, you are both Grey Wardens, and I expect you to be worthy of that title."

Serena and Alistair both nodded. Serena curtsied, bowing her head to the Warden Commander. "May the Maker Himself guide your blades tonight, Duncan."

Alistair smiled at her quickly before turning to regard Duncan himself. "May He watch over you in your time of need."

Duncan smiled at them both, his eyes shining slightly. "May He watch over us all."


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: **Part 1 of a two chapter update! Hooray! Hope you all following along are enjoying the story, and thank you for the reviews!

Chapter 17 - _The Lightning Struck Tower_

The bridge was complete chaos.

Serena stood at the edge of the camp, Alistair to one side, and her mabari on the other. "Well, looks like we'll have to fight our way across," the man remarked casually, more than a touch of excitement in his voice.

"And to think," Serena teased. "You were worried we'd be _bored_." She exchanged glances with her fellow Grey Warden and grinned. "This should be exciting."

The bridge itself was a mess of darkspawn bodies and broken bits of rubble. As they moved across, she heard one of the king's archer's shout to his men. "They have an ogre! Coming our way!"

"Serena!" She heard Alistair's shout and dived to the ground, rolling near him as a boulder came hurling through the air towards the bridge. It crashed a few yards in front of them, exploding into a shower of dust and debris. Alistair held up his shield to protect them from the worst of the rocky ash as Serena watched Peanut run forward into the dust cloud.

A moment later the hound dragged a man out who was clutching his arm, screaming in pain. Serena crawled over to his side as Peanut pulled the man to her. "Alistair! I think it's broken!"

"We can set it," Alistair answered, dragging his shield over and propping it against the man's back as protection. "Hold him down," he instructed Serena. "This is going to hurt."

The guard nodded, tears leaving dirty trails through the layer of dust that had settled on his skin. Serena leaned over and pressed on the man's chest and other arm, her knees bracing his legs. Alistair pulled a long bandage from his pack. He broke a spear in half and laid it against the man's arm. His mouth set in a grim line, Serena looked away as there was the sound of a loud crack and the man howled in agony.

She moved to hold his set arm as Alistair wrapped it tightly. They helped him up and Serena pointed in the direction the camp. "There's a few healers just inside that purple tent!" She pushed lightly at the man to get him moving. "Run! Run!"

The guard stumbled forward, his arm hanging in its new splint awkwardly as he ran. Serena watched the skies for a moment, praying silently for the man to make it safely to the healers.

It was almost dark out, but the sky still lit up with magical spells being hurled at the darkspawn horde. She could see warriors and their mabari charge forward, clashing with the second wave of monsters. Flaming arrows littered the night as screams, both human and darkspawn, could be heard below.

Alistair stood next to her, watching the battle below with an unreadable expression. She took his gloved hand in hers and squeezed it. Alistair looked at their hands and then at her face and smiled, although Serena could see it was strained. He picked up his shield and tugged her forward. "That ogre isn't stopping, and he looks to be aiming to take down the entire bridge."

She nodded and they both sprinted for the tower, her mabari easily keeping pace at their side.

"The Tower is just ahead!" Alistair shouted, as another huge rock crashed into the bridge behind them. Serena felt the ground quake beneath them as she grabbed onto one of the toppled statues to keep her balance. She turned to one of the men still standing on the wall.

"Take out that ogre now or else he'll take the whole bridge!" She shifted her pack, reaching for a short bow one of the older Grey Wardens had given her in the camp. She nocked an arrow into it and aimed for the great beasts chest. "Is there a mage on the wall?"

The guard pointed to a young elven man two yards down firing spells into the valley below. Serena waved to the mage, signaling him over to them. "Get him to light your arrows, I have to keep going!"

"Thank you, Warden!" the guard shouted, gesturing quickly to his other men to target the ogre. "We'll hold the bridge as long as we can!" She nodded once and ran to rejoin Alistair at the edge of the path to the Tower. She could see the remaining guards swarm around the mage with their bows as his hands caught fire. Within seconds, volleys of flaming arrows poured from the bridge into the valley below, and the monstrous screams of the darkspawn could be heard.

"What were you doing?" Alistair asked, surveying the land around the tower.

"They have to down that ogre or we'll lose the bridge," Serena said, breathing hard. "Loghain's men will be cut off..." She looked up and her eyes went wide. She quickly nocked another arrow into her bow and pulled it back. It flew into a fat darkspawn running towards them from the tower. She hit it right in the neck and it toppled to the ground, his body twisted at bizarre angles.

"Maker's breath!" Alistair shouted, pulling his sword. "Where'd you learn to shoot like that?" More darkspawn flooded from the tower and Serena pulled arrow after arrow, knocking the creatures back as Alistair alternated between pommeling them with his shield, and hacking them down with his sword. Black ichor dripped from the blade as Alistair cut their way through to the tower entrance.

"Oh, here and there," Serena quipped, catching another darkspawn in the face with an arrow. "I had a lot of free time around the castle, you know!" Beside her, Peanut leaped forward, tackling a darkspawn to the ground.

"Grey Wardens!" A dark haired mage ran towards them, his staff bright with pulsating magic. His robes bore the symbol of the Circle of Magi. "The tower... it's been taken!" Two guardsmen flanked the mage, both had their weapons drawn.

"What are you talking about, man?" Alistair shouted. "Taken how?"

"They came up through the lower chambers!" one of the guards shouted over the roar of the battle. "The tower crawls with them! Most of our men are dead!"

"Then we have to get to the beacon and light it ourselves!" Alistair said.

The mage nodded quickly, whipping his staff around and firing a spell behind them. A bright ball of fire erupted from his staff and struck a tall darkspawn in the middle as he toppled over in flames. "My brothers and sisters are dead," the mage said simply, his eyes hunting the field for more of them before settling on Serena. "I will follow your command, Warden."

"Wait, what? _My_ command? But Alistair-" Serena turned to her fellow Grey Warden uncertainly but he simply waved her forward. "Alright, let's go then." She turned to the guardsmen and pointed. "You two stay here, guard this entrance as best you can. We can't have them coming at us from two ends." The guardsmen nodded and spread out, their weapons at the ready.

Serena turned back to the mage. "What's your name?"

"Rahim," the mage answered. "I am one of the senior enchanters with the Circle of Magi."

"I'm Serena and this is Alistair." They entered the tower and she pointed to the door. "Can you seal this so those guards aren't overwhelmed?" Rahim nodded, lifting his staff and marking the door with magic.

"They will be able to enter, but nothing will be able to leave unless I drop the barrier... or I die." Rahim looked about the tower's entry way curiously. "Will you be using your bow or those daggers, miss?"

Serena considered for a moment but it was Alistair who answered. "Use your bow, I don't want you engaging them unless you have to. Your dog and I can lead the way, with you and... I'm sorry, you said it's Rahim, right? You and Rahim can fire at them from afar."

"I ask simply because I had planned to start casting," Rahim answered. "I can enchant your weapons with fire. It will not harm you, but should provide extra damage to these... monsters."

"Sounds good," Serena said, nodding to both men. "Let's get going, but... stay alert. If they can ambush an entire tower, who knows what else they're capable of?"

"Agreed," said the mage, coming to stand by her. He did a complicated gesture with his hands and Serena and Alistair's weapons burst into flames. Alistair pulled his long sword, glancing at it in awe as the flames licked along the blade.

"Wow." He glanced towards the archway beyond, his eyes narrowed. "Do you feel that?"

"There is something... or perhaps many somethings... hiding just beyond," Rahim replied.

Serena touched her temple; a slight burning had begun in her head, mixing with fear and adrenaline. "Yes, it's darkspawn." She turned to the men, a twinkle in her eyes. "Let's not keep our new friends waiting now, hmm?"

Peanut barked and moved to walk at the front with Alistair, while Serena and Rahim brought up the rear. The hound sniffed loudly along the ground, pausing at the entrance to a large round room. It must be the main floor of the Tower of Ishal, Serena guessed. An enormous statue of King Calenhad the Great dominated the room, as broken barricades were strewn across. It looked like something had rushed through here recently, and quickly.

Alistair moved forward cautiously, his flaming sword at the ready. Serena nocked a new arrow into her now-fiery bow and followed him, her eyes roaming the ground. "I can sense them, but..."

"Yes, I don't see them, either," Alistair said, his mouth set in a deep frown. Beside them, Peanut let out a quick bark, nosing against the inner entryway. Serena kneeled beside him, feeling around the area with her hands. She felt a thin rope run just above the floor and followed it. "It's a trap, stay there," she called. "There's a rope, I think it's rigged to this barrel to explore or something."

"Can you diffuse it?" asked Alistair.

"I'm afraid if I cut it, it'll explode anyway. Perhaps they were expecting us to run through here and activate it? We should be able to step over it, it's not very high." Serena moved awkwardly, stretching her legs out over the rope.

She saw Rahim hike up his long robes and do the same, followed by Alistair. Peanut backed up and took a running leap, landing gracefully next to Serena. "Show-off," she muttered to the dog, smiling.

Wandering through the room, Serena couldn't shake the eerie feeling of being watched, like those monsters were just beyond their field of vision, waiting to strike. Beside her, she could hear the mage chanting softly.

Suddenly, Alistair took off, his boots stamping against the stones. "Genlock, right over there!" He swung his flaming sword and caught the short darkspawn right under the chin, slicing his head clean off. The head hit the ground with a wet splat.

Serena pulled her bow and fired a flaming arrow into the next darkspawn that appeared, but the tall monster just bellowed, ripping it out of his chest and continued his run at Alistair.

"No! Not him!" Serena pulled one of her daggers and threw it hard, landing it right in the creatures face. It screamed and stumbled back, just as Alistair reached it, sinking his blade into its stomach. He pulled Serena's dagger from the monsters face, kicking the dead darkspawn back with his boot.

"Come on, you beasties!" Alistair shouted. He sheathed Serena's dagger for her at her belt and turned back, heading into the next room with Peanut. "You know we're coming for you!"

"Are you two...together?" Serena turned, and found Rahim was standing right beside her, leaning on his staff, his dark eyes were thoughtful. "I was unaware that the Grey Wardens allowed that sort of thing." He paused, a small smile on his lips. "Perhaps like at the Circle Tower, you may look but you can't touch?"

"No, no, we're just..." Serena fumbled for the right words. "No. We're not together. I mean, I... we only met a few days ago."

"I understand," the older man replied, nodding, that small smile still present. "Forget I said anything." He picked up his staff again and followed her into the next room, where the mabari and Alistair were making short work of two darkspawn warriors. Peanut had one down immediately, his jaws ripping into its throat, while Alistair parried blows from the rusted blade of the taller of the two.

Serena noticed the mage had taken up chanting again, his lips moving noiselessly as he recited the words. "What are you doing?" she asked. Rahim held up one finger in a gesture of silence as Serena watched Alistair spin on his heel and cut through another darkspawn with his long sword.

"Did you see that?" Alistair called. "Serena, tell me you _saw_ that!"

"It's a spell called Heroic Offense," Rahim said, following Serena into the next room where her mabari was already sniffing around the stone staircase. Alistair's face seemed to crumple slightly at the mage's words. "So you mean what I just did... wasn't me? It was a spell?"

"The spell merely _enhances_ abilities," Rahim replied, his face calm. "It does not create them, young man."

"Oh." Alistair continued to pout as they crossed the room to the staircase. Serena caught up to him and elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

"That's a _good_ thing, you goof," she chided him gently. "It means everything you do is _you_, just a... faster, smoother you."

"Oh!" Alistair grinned at her, his smile contagious. "I wish I was a mage... I'd cast that on myself all the time then." He winked at Serena and she felt her face blush slightly.

"What could _you_ possibly need to be smoother at?" she asked, her voice laced with false naiveté. She put a gloved hand under his chin for the briefest of moments. "I mean, other than this stubbly business you have going here."

Alistair snorted. "You saw me this morning, Serena. What _wouldn't_ I need to be smoother at?"

"Hmm, good point," Serena teased. She dropped her voice so only Alistair could hear her. "Maybe it's just the spell talking, but I think you're plenty smooth right now."

"Must be the spell," Alistair said, a sly smile on his face. "I always seem to lose it around the pretty girls." He sighed, slumping his shoulders in mock defeat.

"Good thing it's just Peanut, Rahim and I then, huh?" She pushed open the metal door at the top of the staircase, putting an extra sway in her hips. Behind her, she could hear Alistair groan.

"Yes, no beautiful women here," Rahim agreed, a twinkle in his eye. "Although I have to say, your hound is very handsome." Beside him, Peanut barked his approval and they all laughed.

"Aww, did you hear that, boy?" Serena said to the mabari. "You have yet another admirer."

"As a native Fereldan, I'm afraid I have quite the soft spot for dogs," Rahim said, scratching Peanut around the ears. "It's a shame we aren't allowed them at the tower."

"From the way I hear it, you lot aren't allowed a lot of things at the Circle Tower," said Alistair.

"Very true." The mage sighed, using his staff almost as a cane. "It could always be worse, though. At least within the tower, my fellows surround me. Many of the apprentices see it as a prison, but they have... never been victimized for what they are. To me, the tower is a sanctuary." Rahim shrugged. "Just don't get on the templars nerves."

They wound their way through the remaining floors, taking down small pockets of darkspawn along the way. One of the floors had been apparently used as a storage space for the army before the horde had moved in. Serena kneeled at one of the chests, picking the lock.

"Should I even ask where you learned that little trick?" Alistair asked over her shoulder.

"Ah... hmm..." Serena shrugged, popping the lock open. She replaced the pin into her hair. "My brother, actually. He used to sneak food from the kitchen but ah, my Nan found out and started locking the larder at night. Not that a lock would stop Fergus."

"Is there anything you _can't _do, my lady?"

Serena paused, thinking. "I'm quite bad at cards, come to think of it..." Alistair grinned and kneeled beside her, his smile warming her from the inside despite the chill of the tower.

Turning back to the chest, she pulled out what looked like a small pack of health poultices and a large bottle of lyrium. "Ohhh... Rahim! Here!" Serena tossed the bottle to the mage, who caught it easily. "Might come in handy, right?"

Alistair leaned over and pulled out a handful of small throwing knives. "You should probably take these, Serena. I'd be rubbish with them." He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet. She took the knives and stashed them in a pouch on her belt.

"Wardens... over here!" Rahim called. He was standing in the next room, staring down into a large hole in the floor.

"This must be how they swarmed the tower," Serena said, eyeing the trench uneasily.

"Maker's breath... what could have dug _that_?" Alistair leaned over the hole, his eyes wide. "What were these darkspawn doing ahead of the rest of the horde? There wasn't supposed to be any resistance here!"

"You could try telling them they're in the wrong place?" Serena suggested, smirking.

"Right... because clearly this is all just a big misunderstanding. We'll laugh about it later!" Alistair looked around, searching the floor. "That must be the entrance to the top of the tower... We need to hurry and light the signal fire in time. Teyrn Loghain will be waiting!"

They ran up the rest of the stairs to the top of the tower, Alistair and Serena taking them two at a time. A metal door was all that separated them from the beacon now, and Serena readied her bow as Alistair pushed it open.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note**: I'm afraid I couldn't help myself with this chapter title, some puns are just too good to _not_use, you know? Thanks again to all of you reviewing and following! You're the best!

Chapter 18 – _May I Have Mine Ogre Easy?_

The ogre was beyond massive. Two huge twisted horns rose from its head, and blood dripped from its maul. Serena realized the beast had pulled a man, perhaps one of the guards who was originally meant to guard the tower, to pieces with its great arms and was now devouring him, alive. At her gasp, the beast turned towards them and released a deafening roar.

"And here I thought we could just sneak by, light the beacon and go home..." Alistair whispered beside her, pulling his sword. Rahim swung his staff in a wide arc over his head, a bolt of lightning streaking from the end of the staff to the ogre beyond. It struck the ogre and it bellowed once again, ducking its head to charge. Smoke curled up from its head and Serena could smell singed skin.

"Split up! There's four of us, and one of him!" Serena called to the others. "Rahim, do you have any spells that can slow it down?" Nodding, the mage immediately set to work chanting.

Serena bolted for cover behind a pillar. She didn't know much about these huge beasts, but its eyes were tiny compared to the rest of it, so perhaps sight wasn't its strong suit? Serena peeked around the pillar quickly; Rahim's spell seemed to be slowly it down considerably as Peanut let out a dreadful howl. The ogre shook his huge head slowly, as if the dog's howl had stunned it a little.

She pulled back her bow and let loose a trio of flaming arrows, striking it in the chest with two. Armored at the shoulders, forearms and waist, the chest, thighs and face seemed to be it's only weak spots. Across the circular room, Serena could see Alistair sneaking up behind the ogre, his flaming sword and shield at the ready.

Serena loosened another pair of flaming arrows from her bow and they sunk into the ogre's chest, where he smacked them off with one huge hand. The beast ducked its head and charged, running at full speed towards the pillar where Serena hid.

She dived to the side, rolling across the stones. She felt her elbow catch on a jagged rock and she yelped in pain. The ogre crashed through the pillar and into the wall; glass, stone and debris collapsing around the creature. It roared again, flinging the bits into the air around it as Serena struggled to pull herself under a heavy wooden table to avoid the chaos. Her left elbow was burning, and she desperately hoped it wasn't broken. She tested it slowly, and it moved, but barely. She wouldn't be able to shoot properly until it was healed, though.

Slipping the throwing knives out of her belt pouch, she crawled along the ground towards the ogre. Looking up, she saw her mabari bounding towards the ogre, his jaws wide. She needed to distract it... If she could just get near its face...

Pulling herself up from the floor, she shrieked at the pain in her arm, chucking one of the small knives at the ogre in an effort to gain its attention. Thank the Maker it was her left arm, otherwise she would have been as helpless as a kitten against the giant darkspawn.

The ogre gained it's footing and lunged towards her as she threw another knife at its face. The great creature landed just short of her as she scrambled out of the way, her injured arm jolting her into another scream of pain.

From the side, she saw Peanut leap onto the downed ogre's head quickly, his jaws ripping one of its large pointed ears from its head. Black blood spurted from the wound and the ogre bellowed again, slamming it's fists down onto the stones in rage. The entire floor shook from his smashing fists, and Serena had to grab onto the wall with her uninjured arm to avoid being knocked to the ground.

"Serena! Rahim!" Alistair's shout was anguished, and she saw he was engaged with two short darkspawn that had come in from the staircase. He dodged one, bringing his shield around and slamming it into the pair, knocking them to the ground. Two quick jabs of his blade and they were down, but Serena could see he had a gash across his chest, where one of their short swords had tried to pierce his splint mail armor.

Near Alistair, Rahim sent a fireball towards the now open doorway, blowing another small group of darkspawn back down the staircase to the floor below. He seemed to be concentrating on stemming the flow of darkspawn that were intent on overwhelming them from the door.

Her mabari rounded again and leaped for the ogre, this time his jaws latched onto the beasts' leg, ripping a huge gash into the side. Serena shook off the pain and fatigue settling in her and pulled one of her silverite daggers, determined to down the ogre if it was the last thing she did.

"Serena!" Alistair sprinted towards her, his face clearly showing signs of his exhaustion. Their teasing back-and-forth seemed like it had been _hours_ ago. He slid down next to her, bracing himself with his shield. "It's... they're everywhere! Rahim is trying to block off the staircase, but if we don't..." He paused, catching his breath. "We need to light that beacon!"

"I know," she whispered. "I need you to wrap my elbow, it's... something is wrong with it. I... can't shoot." Alistair cursed softly, pulling a bandage from his pack. He slid her sleeve up and rubbed some cream on it, wrapping it tight. Serena sighed in relief as the healing poultice absorbed into her skin. She flexed it tentatively, pulling her bow again.

"Thank you," she said, nocking an arrow into the bow. She loosened the arrow and it landed in the ogre's lower back as Peanut continued to dance around its feet, snapping at it whenever he had the chance.

"Stay here and keep at it with those arrows, I need to help your hound." Alistair moved to the side, his flaming long sword held at the ready. He waited for an opening and then charged the ogre, his shield slamming hard into the beast's knees and knocking it to the side. The ogre crashed to the ground and Serena felt the floor shake again with the impact.

Pulling another arrow, she took her time aiming. The flaming arrow landed just short of the beast's skull, and into his thick neck. "Damn," Serena muttered, loading another arrow and loosening it into the creatures' abdomen.

The ogre raised itself up and went to grab for Alistair, but she shot it in the hand. "Don't you _dare_ touch him, you filthy-" She pulled arrow after arrow, loosening them into the monster's hands and chest, her mind a flurry of violence and rage. Tiny patches of flame erupted all over the ogres body as she kept firing until she was out completely. Switching to her daggers, she started running forward to attack the beast head-on.

Alistair ran his sword into the ogre's thigh and it fell to the ground again, bellowing, its body now mangled and bleeding from multiple areas by their combined efforts to bring it down.

Serena hurdled over the giants' head, slamming both daggers deep into his chest. One of his giant hands swatted at her, the ogres armored gauntlets swiping near her middle as she tried to dodge the attack.

She brought the daggers down again, and the ogre shrieked as its black blood surged out of the wounds she had made. Alistair swung his blade wide and chopped, and Serena felt the body under her go slack as the ogre stopped moving altogether.

"Is it dead?" she cried, her own body ready to drop. She was still seated atop the creature's chest, her body sucking in huge breaths from the exertion. "Maker's breath, tell me it's dead!" She could feel hot tears she couldn't control run down her face, so complete was her exhaustion. Her elbow had started to throb once again and there was a new mysterious pain in her stomach.

"It's dead, it's dead!" Alistair dropped his sword and pulled her down off the ogre's chest, careful to avoid jostling her arm. "Are you okay? Tell me you're okay." His eyes searched hers, and she could see her own fatigue reflected in his face. He had a large gash down his cheek and she put her fingers to his face, touching him gently. If only she had magic, she could have healed him right there...

"... I'm... I'm fine, but... the beacon..." Serena felt like she was going to faint. She fought to keep her eyes open, Alistair supporting her shoulder.

"The beacon is over here, I'm sure we missed the signal..." Alistair helped her to the side of the room where a large fireplace stood. "Let me just set you down, here, now don't move… you're... bleeding quite a bit..."

Serena glanced down and realized the ogre's wrist blades had slashed through her leather armor. The blood looked almost black to her in the darkened tower... So _that_ was why she felt so sluggish...

"Light it, Alistair, I'm... fine..." He nodded, shouting words over her head she couldn't comprehend as Rahim ran over to her side.

"I'm no healer, but I can staunch the flow a bit," he said, kneeling down. Serena felt a wave of cool magic sweep over her; her skin felt like it was trying desperately to bind itself back together. "I must help your friend now." As he left, a furry face replaced him at her side.

"Good boy..." she whispered, her eyes closing briefly. Soon, the two men returned, stooping down beside her.

"It's lit, Serena, it's lit! It'll be okay! We're all going to be just fine! Oh, Maker... there's so much blood..." Alistair was babbling again, she vaguely realized. Was she really that injured? He grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently. "Please, you have to stay awake."

"I'm fine..." Serena pushed herself up, her legs fumbling beneath her. Her stomach was still stinging, but at least she could stand now. The ogre laid dead a few yards away; other darkspawn corpses littered the top floor near the staircase they had taken. "Should… we stay... here?"

Alistair shook his head, his eyes still full of concern for her. "I... don't know. I'm afraid more of them will flood the tower from below..." He leaned in next to Serena, his voice low. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Alistair..." She put a gentle hand on his arm, forcing herself to smile despite the throbbing in her stomach. "I'll be just-"

A loud bang interrupted Serena as the clang of the metal door being blown off its hinges echoed across the tower. They all turned as a swarm of darkspawn burst through the door, a group of archers among them.

Before she knew she was doing it, Serena threw herself at Alistair, knocking him to the ground as arrows flew through the air. She felt a quick pain in her shoulder, then another sharp stab at her leg.

Serena heard herself whimper pathetically as Alistair's muffled shouting from underneath her filled her ears. She felt her body roll onto the stones, the stabbing sensation increasing, then a loud roaring, and then nothing as she slipped into oblivion.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 – _The Last of Their Kind_

Serena had never felt so terrible in her life. _Everything_ hurt. Parts of her body she didn't even know _could_ hurt were now battling for the most painful injury award. She looked around, her head swimming.

"Ah, your eyes finally open." A dark haired woman came to stand by her bed, peering curiously into Serena's face. "Mother shall be pleased."

"W-what... happened?" Serena's voice sounded craggily, like she hadn't used it in days. "Who... How... how bad am I hurt? Have I been asleep?"

"Asleep? No." The woman's yellow eyes narrowed as she stared at Serena. "You have been unconscious for a little over two days. Your injuries were... quite severe, but nothing Mother couldn't heal, for the most part."

"A-and the darkspawn? Where are they?"

The woman paused, taking a seat at the edge of Serena's bed. No, wait, not Serena's bed... whose bed was this? Where _was_ she? Was this the woman's house? "You were injured in the tower... and then Mother rescued you," the woman replied. "Do you not remember?"

"Wait- what? What happened to the... army?" Serena shook her head, trying to clear it. "The king?"

"The man who was to respond to your signal..." The woman sighed, as if this was unpleasant news she wished she did not have to relay to Serena. "Quit the field... The darkspawn won your battle." She waved a hand and Serena felt a wave of magic wash over her and she instantly felt stronger.

She turned again; those yellow eyes locking onto Serena's blue ones. "Do you... remember me at all?" she finally asked.

"I... yes. From before. We..." Serena paused, thinking hard. "You're... the woman from the woods. You helped us before." Another long pause and Serena could see the woman was waiting for her to continue. "M-morrigan. You're Morrigan."

The woman, Morrigan, raised her eyebrows, a small smile twisting her lips. "Correct. I am _impressed_." She waved her hand, and there again was the magic, wave after wave of warmth radiating over her. Serena leaned back, relief settling across her face.

"I'm no healer, but that should ease some of your discomfort."

"Thank you," Serena gasped. "For... everything." She closed her eyes, feeling the tears squeeze out unbidden and slide down her face. "Did anyone... survive?"

"Ah," Morrigan sighed. "Your general... hmm." She seemed to be searching for the right words. "Those he abandoned were massacred. Your friend... he is... not taking it well."

"My f-friend?" Serena rubbed her forehead with one hand. It felt like her head was slowly coming out of a thick fog. "My... Alistair!" She sat up quickly, stumbling forward out of the tiny wooden bed. Morrigan immediately moved to the side to avoid being bumped to the floor.

Serena stood, swaying gently on her feet. Her shoulder, stomach and right leg were all heavily bandaged and stiff to move. She could feel the bizarre sensation of the magic trying to knit her back together. She knew she should have probably stayed down, but she had to see him... had to know...

She fumbled at the door, looking back at Morrigan. "I'm sorry, I-"

"'Tis fine," the witch replied, waving a hand. "I assure you, he was much better off than you. He is outside by the fire. Mother asked to see you when you awoke."

"-Have to see..." Serena pulled open the door and light flooded her vision. "Alistair?" she called, her voice edging on desperate. "Alistair? Are you..."

"Serena! Oh, Maker, I thought you were dead! I'm... I'm over here!" He moved and then she could see him, a dark figure moving towards her as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight.

"I thought you were..." she mumbled into his neck. "I thought I'd lost you, too..."

"You were _so_ hurt," he whispered into her hair. "I thought you had _died_. Why did you jump in front of me? You could have died, Serena! You could have... I could have _lost_ you-" He paused his quiet diatribe when he realized his shoulder felt wet. "Serena..."

"They're _dead_, Alistair. Duncan, and Cailan," she sobbed; her blue eyes were jewel bright with tears. "She said they're all d-dead and I thought... I thought I'd lost you, too..."

He nodded, pulling her back to him. "I know, I'm sorry..." He stroked her hair as she cried, almost feeling overwhelmed himself. "It's okay, Serena. I'm here; I'm here with you. I'm sorry I said... I'm so sorry. We're... we're okay now."

He rested his cheek on top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. He wished this moment of closeness had been about something else, something happier. Instead, it was filled with fear and betrayal and mourning... They'd lost so much in the last few days, and Serena had lost even more before that. He longed to shield her from any more pain, and yet here they were again. Some white knight _he_ was turning out to be.

After a few minutes, he felt her shaking ease and she straightened. Serena rubbed her face, wiping away any stray tears.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, but I just-" She dropped her head and another tear slid down her face. Alistair moved and suddenly she was wrapped tightly in his arms again. "Alistair, I-"

"I know, Serena," he said, his hand rubbing the small of her back. "I know. It's alright."

"Perhaps... she would like to put on some clothing?"

Alistair looked up, his eyes narrowing angrily at the witch as she leaned against the open doorframe casually. "I just say so, because, well..." She grinned, nodding at Serena.

Serena pulled back from Alistair, her face flushed. She looked down and Alistair noticed for the first time she was just in her small clothes, albeit so heavily bandaged in some areas they could have easily passed for clothing. "Yes, I... I wasn't thinking. Excuse me." She ran past Morrigan into the tiny cottage as the witch chuckled softly.

"So, _Alistair_, is it?" The dark haired woman slid along the side of the derelict little hut as Serena disappeared inside.

"Yes. It is." Alistair crossed his arms over his chest, hoping his posture clearly conveyed that, no, he did _not_ want to talk, certainly not to her. And how long had she been standing there, anyway?

"I see you, and the girl..." Her voice was slow and velvety. He imagined it was what an animal, perhaps some large cat of some kind, would sound like if it could talk. "But what became of your other two fellows, I wonder?"

"Daveth and Ser Jory didn't make it through the Joining ceremony," Alistair replied curtly, mentally cursing himself. Why was he even answering her questions?

Morrigan smiled slyly, her bright yellow eyes reflecting the early morning sunlight. "The fat one was a coward anyway," she said lightly. "So... what do you two plan to do now? You were the only two my mother could save, although I am sure others may have escaped into the trees... It was..." Morrigan paused, and for the fist time Alistair could see true emotion in her eyes instead of the ever-present mocking. Was that... terror?

"...Pure chaos," she finished. "I have never seen anything like it. And I have seen many things in the Wilds.

"Yeah? I bet the squirrels around here get into some dirty business," Alistair said, rolling his eyes.

"Jest if you must, but these woods can be treacherous to navigate without the proper guide."

They glared at each other for another moment until the door to the cottage opened again and Serena stood there, back in her ripped and bloodied armor. Alistair winced when he saw the gash across her stomach, the white of the bandages showing through. Her eyes locked on his and she nodded, coming over to stand beside him.

"I'm fine now," she said softly, her hand on his chest. "I was a little... well, I was a _lot_ roughed up... but I'm fine now. Really."

Alistair put a hand over hers and sighed. "I know, I just-"

"You worry too much, young man," said another new voice. They both turned as the old woman from before came around the side of the house. Behind her, there was a quick bark and Peanut appeared, chasing two terrified squirrels up a nearby tree. "What a delightful thing," the woman cooed.

"If you can stand the fleas," Morrigan added, rolling her eyes at the dog.

"This doesn't seem_ real_. If it weren't for Morrigan's mother..." Alistair shook his head. "We'd be dead on top of that tower, I'm sure of it."

"Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad," the old woman snapped.

"He didn't mean anything by it," Serena said, stepping in front of Alistair and smoothing over the awkward moment. "But we... don't know what to call you. You never told us your name."

"Names are pretty, but useless," the woman replied. "The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. I suppose it will do."

"_The_ Flemeth? From the Legends?" Alistair said from behind her. "Daveth was right- you're... the Witch of the Wilds, aren't you?"

"And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic, and it has served _you_ both well, has it not?"

"I'm sorry, but why _did_ you save us?" Serena asked.

Flemeth laughed, as if she found their survival hilarious. "Well, we cannot have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we? Someone has to deal with these darkspawn." She calmed herself, her yellow eyes suddenly intense. "It has always been the Grey Wardens' duty to unite the lands against the Blight. Or did that change when I wasn't looking?"

"The land is hardly united, thanks to Loghain..." Serena muttered.

"That... just doesn't make any sense!" Alistair put a hand to his head, rubbing his temples. "_Why_ would he do it? He abandoned us all..."

"Now _that_ is a good question," Flemeth replied. "Men's hearts hold shadows much darker than any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can outmaneuver. Perhaps he does not see that the evil _behind _it is the true threat."

"The archdemon," Alistair said slowly, and Flemeth nodded.

"You're not as stupid as you look then," Morrigan said softly from behind Flemeth. Serena turned to look at her, but the woman only smiled, a quick flash of teeth.

"What _is_ the archdemon, though? That dragon... thing?"

"It leads the horde," Alistair said. "Without it, the darkspawn stay below the ground, unable to organize enough to attack our land."

"It is an Old God," Flemeth added. "Awakened and tainted by the darkspawn. History says it's a fearsome and immortal thing, and believe that or not, only fools ignore history."

"Then..." Serena paused, thinking hard. Her head still felt fuzzy from her injuries and the mixture of different magics. "Then we need to find this archdemon."

"By ourselves?" Alistair's voice was incredulous. "No Grey Warden has ever defeated a Blight without the army of a half-dozen nations at his back! Not to mention... I don't even know how!"

"Color me surprised," came Morrigan's sarcastic drawl. She rolled her eyes and slipped back into the house out of sight.

"How to kill the archdemon, or how to raise an army? It seems to me those are two different questions, hmm? Have the Wardens no allies these days?"

"I... I don't know. Duncan said that the Grey Wardens of Orlais had been called..." Alistair began to pace. "And Arl Eamon would never stand for this, surely."

"The Arl of Redcliffe?" Serena asked. "Would he believe us over the teyrn?"

"I suppose... Arl Eamon wasn't at Ostagar; he still has all his men. And he was Cailan's uncle on his mother's side." Alistair shrugged. "I know him. He's a good man, respected in the Landsmeet. We could... go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help?"

"We'll need more than just one castle's men, though, and with Highever lost..." Serena sighed, her mouth turning into a frown. "What about the Circle of Magi? They sent people to Ostagar, surely they would help us?"

"Of course! The treaties!" Alistair smacked his knee, his hazel eyes losing some of their gloom. "Grey Wardens can demand aid from... from dwarves, elves, mages and I don't know... other places! They're _obligated_ to help us during a Blight!"

"I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon, and who knows what else... this sounds like an army to me," Flemeth said, a smug look on her wrinkled face.

Alistair turned to Serena, his face more hopeful than she'd seen it all morning. "So... can we do this? Go to Redcliffe and these other places and… build an army?"

"I don't see that we have much of a choice, Alistair, we're the only ones left in Ferelden..." Serena sighed, pushing her bangs back from her face. "Besides, what else are we going to do? Stand around here and wait to get our deaths handed to us by those monsters?"

"So you are set, then? Ready to be Grey Wardens?"

"Yes," Serena replied, nodding at the old woman. She hoped her voice sounded more confident, because she certainly didn't feel very certain. She just felt like… one big bruise. "Thank you, Flemeth. For everything you did for us."

"No, no, thank _you_," the old woman replied, her hands waving them off. "You are the Grey Wardens here, not I." She turned back to the house just as Morrigan was coming back out and smiled. "Now... before you go, there is yet one more thing I can offer you."

"The stew is bubbling, Mother dear. Shall we have two guests for the eve or none?"

"The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly, girl. And _you_ will be joining them."

"Such a shame... _What?_" Morrigan turned on her mother, her normally mocking face narrowed in anger and surprise.

"You heard me, girl. The last time I looked, you had ears!" Flemeth laughed again, and Serena exchanged glances with Alistair. 'What if this woman is insane?' that look clearly said. "You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Here is your chance. As for you, Wardens, consider this repayment for your lives."

"I... um... thank you. We're happy to have her with us," Serena said, curtsying to the old woman.

"Are you sure about this?" Alistair whispered to her. "Outside of the Wilds she's an apostate! Won't this sort of... add to our problems?"

"We need all the help we can get, Alistair. Plus, she's a mage. A _talented_ one."

"If you do not wish help from us illegal mages, young man, perhaps I should have left you on that tower?" Flemeth remarked.

"Ah, point taken," said Alistair, his face flushing.

Morrigan seemed to still be grappling with the quick change of events. "Mother... this is... not how I wanted this. I am not even ready-"

"You _must_ be ready," Flemeth said sternly. "Alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn. They need you, Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I."

"I... understand," Morrigan said finally, her eyes dropping to the ground.

"And you, Wardens? Do _you_ understand? I give you that which I value above all else in this world. I do this because you _must_ succeed." The witch's eyes bored into Serena's, willing her to believe.

"She won't come to harm with us," Serena said solemnly. She saw Morrigan eye her various bandaged body parts wearily, shaking her head.

"Allow me to... gather my things, if you please." Without waiting for a reply, Morrigan turned on her heel and disappeared back into the cottage.

Serena and Alistair stood around uneasily in the area in front of the hut, unsure if they should say anything to the old woman. Peanut, apparently spent with chasing the squirrels, padded up to Serena and nosed her hand. Other than a long pink scar that was healing nicely along his shank, the hound appeared to be otherwise unharmed.

"You are one lucky mutt," she whispered to the hound, leaning down and stroking his soft fur. "How do I nearly get my arm taken off and you've got barely a scar on you?"

The door to the hut opened again and Morrigan stepped out, a knapsack over her shoulder. "I am... at your disposal it would seem, Grey Wardens. I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. 'Tis not far, and you will find much you need there." She glanced between Serena and Alistair, shrugging. "Or, if you prefer, I shall simply be your silent guide. The choice is yours."

"No, no, that's fine," Serena said. "I would prefer if you spoke your mind." Beside her, she heard Alistair groan.

"You will regret saying that," Morrigan said with a laugh. Flemeth came to stand by her daughter, putting one hand on her shoulder, to which Morrigan rolled her eyes. "Dear, sweet mother... you are so kind to cast me out like this. How fondly I shall remember this moment."

"Well, I always said, if you want something done, do it yourself, or hear about it for a decade or two afterwards." The old woman backed up from them, shooing them with her hands. "Now, go! Save the world and such! And do try to have _fun_, dear!"

Serena hiked her own pack up onto her back and saw Alistair do the same. With a small awkward wave to the old woman, they headed out into the Wilds, Morrigan leading the way.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note:** This was one of my favorite chapters to write so far, so I hope you all enjoy it. I simply love writing character banter between Alistair and Serena. There never seems to be a moment when one of them isn't being hopelessly awkward. Well, maybe _ONE_ moment, but yeah... Thanks to all the reviewers and followers! You guys make my day. :)

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><p><span>Chapter 20<span> – _The Long Road Ahead_

They had set up a small camp for the night in a small thicket near the road. The walk along the Imperial Highway to the town Morrigan had mentioned, Lothering, was a long one, made even longer by their lack of horses. Serena briefly wondered if any of their mounts had made it out of Ostagar alive or if they too had been gobbled up by darkspawn.

Alistair and Serena set up tents near one another by the fire, while Morrigan had preferred to keep hers off in the darkness, under a large willow tree. She did permit herself their company by the fire while they made dinner, though.

"So you've never been outside the Wilds?" Alistair asked, taking the skin off a large rabbit he had caught earlier in one of Serena's traps. It was one of the first things he had said all day, he had been so quiet on their trek here.

"From time to time..." Morrigan answered, stirring some leafy herbs into the pot between the three of them. "I have been to the village I mentioned before... watched its people, and pondered what curious beings they are."

"Do you find us curious?" Serena inquired. "I mean, compared to them?"

Morrigan stared at her, shrugging, her yellow eyes thoughtful. "I find you peculiar at times, yes. For example, why would two such as yourselves choose to join such an order shrouded in mystery? You both seem rather... upfront... in your words and actions."

Serena exchanged glances with Alistair, unsure if she should explain their origins to this new companion. Perhaps an abbreviated account would do. "I... well, it's complicated. Our former commander... he was an excellent judge of character, and he recruited us. Separately."

"And where is he now?" Morrigan leaned forward over the pot, smelling it briefly, then added another touch of something crumbly. "He was on the front lines, I presume?"

"We don't know _anything_ for sure," Alistair said harshly. Serena saw he was slicing the pelt of the rabbit into strips now, fighting the resentment that boiled inside him.

"But we... we felt them... we felt something happen to them," Serena added, putting a soft hand on her fellow Grey Warden's arm. He stopped cutting the pelt and wiped his blade clean, putting the rabbit on a spit over the fire. "But yes, Duncan and the other Grey Wardens were with King Cailan on the front lines."

"Hmmm…" Morrigan seemed to want to say something, but apparently thought better of it after glancing at Alistair's expression. "To answer your first question, other than my forays into Lothering, no, I haven't really been outside of these forests. Mother wishes for me to expand the horizon of my experience, I suppose. Even she was not born here."

Serena plucked the feathers off a duck and removed its head, handing it to Alistair. "And is that what _you_ want?"

"What I want is to see mountains," Morrigan replied, her voice taking on a wistful tone. "I wish to witness the ocean, and step into its waters. I want to experience a city, rather than see it in my mind." The young witch paused, suddenly looking very young. "So, yes, this is what I want. Actually_ leaving_ was... harder than I thought, however."

"It can be very... difficult... leaving your childhood home." Serena spoke softly, looking deep into the fire. The flames licked along the logs, creating shifting patterns of light on their bodies.

"You speak as if you know something about it," Morrigan replied, although her tone was not cruel.

"Yes, I do," Serena said simply. She watched Alistair turning the spit and noticed his face no longer had the harshness to it from earlier. She hoped that their misfortune did not turn him bitter; he was much too sweet for that.

"The rabbit is ready, I think." Alistair pulled the spit off the fire and laid the small creature on a plate, replacing it with the duck. "Unless you wanted to add this to the stew?" he added, looking to Serena.

"It's up to Morrigan," she replied, deferring to the mage. "I'm only good at prepping the food, and eating it." The witch took the duck from them and sliced it into pieces with a small knife, adding it to her stew.

"We should arrive in the town tomorrow, by around midday, I would say," she said, stirring the pot. Morrigan appeared ready to drop the subject of misplaced childhood homes as much as Serena did.

They ate in relative silence that night, and Serena couldn't help but notice they all seemed lost in their own thoughts. Immediately following dinner, Morrigan headed back to her own small camp by the tree, disappearing into her tent as Serena found herself alone with Alistair by the fire.

"How are you doing?" he asked quietly. His gloved fingers were tracing circles in the dirt, and Serena found herself watching his movements, her mind desperate for something to focus on that wasn't her own gloomy thoughts.

"I've... certainly been better." Serena sighed, pulling her hair out of its complicated knot. She ran her hands through it, teasing out the tangles. It felt good to have something to do with her hands. "My shoulder has just about healed, and my leg doesn't hurt... but my stomach is taking it's own sweet time, it would seem."

Alistair was watching her now, taking in the length of her body. She fought to keep the heat from rising in her face, his hazel eyes lingering at her middle. "You should take off your armor."

"...W-what?" Serena stared at him, her mouth open.

"Your armor," he repeated, pointing to her stomach. "I think it's pinching your wound." Alistair removed his own gloves and leaned over, plucking one of the straps on her shoulder pauldron, lightly removing it.

"I'm worried it will heal poorly, or scar." He seemed oblivious to her surprise, slowly loosening the straps and leather plates that made her armor. "We should probably patch your breastplate, too."

Serena nodded faintly, moving her hands up to help him. Soon, her armor lay in a pile beside them and she sat in her leggings and tunic. The tunic hung loosely on her, shredded in the front by the ogre's wrist blade. The thick bandages were easily visible underneath the fine linen shirt.

"How does that feel?" Alistair asked, his voice still subdued. Serena nodded, her breath coming much easier with the armor off.

"I guess I didn't realize how tight it felt on me with these... with the bandages on." She rolled up her shirt and tied it under her breasts in a small knot so she could better see the wounded area. Alistair stared at the makeshift dressing, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"This should help... so there isn't any scarring." He pulled his pack over to them and rummaged inside, pulling out the cream he had used on her elbow in the tower.

He scooted closer to her and Serena could feel his fingers at her stomach, unwrapping the bandage slowly. He ran a hand over the damaged skin of her belly, and Serena felt a well of emotion open up in her. She wished he would stop touching her so lightly...

Alistair dipped a hand in the small pot of cream and rubbed it over her midsection, covering the area with the cooling ointment. His deft fingers moved quickly, spreading it all over the pink skin. The combination of his warm skin on hers and the healing salve made Serena sigh, her body relaxing as she tipped her head back. She could feel her long hair brush the dirt as she leaned back, but she didn't care, her body was no longer her own as she felt it arch to his touch.

"T-that's better, right?" He said, his fingers still caressing her middle, rubbing the cream into her rapidly healing skin.

"Oh, yes..." she moaned, her eyes closing. "It doesn't even hurt anymore..." Her body relaxed further as he shifted, putting one arm under her to support her back. Her mind briefly flashed to a painting depicting a scene from the Chant of Light, where the Maker cradled his Bride Andraste's spirit in his arms as she passed into the Beyond after her sacrifice.

"Where did you learn to patch people up so well?" she asked, shifting slightly so she was leaning against his chest, staring into the fire.

"In the Chantry, actually..." Alistair whispered, his arms resting around her stomach as she leaned against him. She could feel his fingers slowly rubbing circles into her bare skin and she fought the urge to melt into his touch completely. She wondered absently if he knew the effect he was having on her.

"I wasn't the most talented of the templars... I got injured quite a bit," he continued, his voice husky in her ear. "A sympathetic sister took pity on me and showed me how to bind a lot of different kinds of wounds. It's one of my more appealing skill sets, I think. That and my devilishly good looks."

"I'm not sure if being handsome is a skill," Serena murmured to him. "But I'm certainly glad to be traveling with you. I'm like a magnet for suffering as of late. It's good to have someone who can cure all that ails me."

Alistair's arms squeezed her lightly as he leaned his chin on top of her head. "I'm sorry about everything, Serena. It… it wasn't supposed to be like this."

"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "If it hadn't, would I even be here? Would I be a Grey Warden?" She laced the fingers of her left hand with one of his. "I might have lived my whole silly life having never met you."

"That's the only silver lining out of all of this, I think," said Alistair, stroking her long hair with his free hand. "I don't think I could do _any_ of this without you."

"Well, we haven't done much of anything yet," she reasoned. "We still have an army to gather, a Blight to stop..." She sighed, her body leaning into his comforting embrace. "Not to mention that I'm _constantly_ hungry now."

"You, too?" Alistair said with a laugh. "I thought it was just me..." He sighed, his hand trailing down her shoulder, making her shiver. "Ever since my Joining, I could just eat everything, all the time."

"Oh, I know. As soon as we get to that village, I'm plopping down at the first bar I find and gobbling down the biggest meal they have. My mother would have had a fit if she could see it." Serena sat up, affecting a higher tone of voice. "Serena, _how_ many times have I told you it's simply not polite for a young lady to slouch? And don't you think _two_ bowls of oatmeal is _enough_ already?"

Alistair laughed, his breath fluttering her hair. "Well, you know she'd be right. It's not really proper for a noble lady like you to be gorging yourself like some kind of filthy commoner."

Serena turned and pushed him lightly in the chest. "You just wait-" she began, but Alistair grinned, catching her chin and leaned in. It was the lightest of kisses and then they were pulling back, staring at each other, hazel eyes locked on blue ones. She hadn't realized when she had put her arms around his neck. "I... um..."

Alistair blushed, a hesitant half smile on his face. "Was that-?"

"We are _NOT_ friends, dog! Get out of my tent!" Morrigan's angry voice carried across the camp and Alistair and Serena fumbled, pushing apart quickly. Serena pulled at her tunic and the knot came undone, the shirt unraveling to cover her stomach once more.

"Warden-" The witch strode angrily over to the pair of them from her tree, her hands on her hips. "If you could please keep control of this mongrel!" Behind her, Peanut slinked past, heading towards Serena's tent and disappearing inside.

"He just..." Serena cleared her throat, feeling heat in her face. "He just likes you, that's all. Think of it as a compliment?"

Morrigan huffed, dropping a dead squirrel at Serena's feet. "Tell him he can keep his little presents, too!" She turned on her heel and stomped back into her own tent.

"Sorry again, Morrigan!" Serena called, pitching the dead squirrel into a bush. She turned to Alistair, grimacing. "I... sorry. That was..." She ducked her head, gathering up her armor. "Do you mind taking first watch tonight? I... I should get some sleep… or something."

"Yeah, no problem," Alistair said softly, staring into the fire again. His face was blank of emotion, his eyes only reflecting the firelight. "Sleep well, Serena."

She cast a long look at the man, but he didn't move, he seemed quite determined to _not_ look at her. Maybe he hadn't meant to kiss her after all and now he was embarrassed about his lapse in judgement? Granted, it barely counted as a kiss, really…

She sighed, hoping she didn't sound too disappointed. "Thanks... I... I'm sorry about the…" She paused, fumbling for the right words. "Anyway, goodnight, Alistair."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 - _The Little Town of Lothering_

"Well, there it is. Lothering." Alistair sighed dramatically, waving a hand over the expanse, as if the dirty little town was one of the most beautiful sights he'd seen. "Pretty as a painting." Serena peered around, taking in the features of the village from the Imperial Highway.

"Ah, so you have finally decided to rejoin us, have you?" Morrigan's voice was a long drawl. "Falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble, I take it?" She made a noise in the back of throat that sounded like a snort.

Alistair rounded on the witch, his temper flaring up. "Is my being upset so hard to understand? Have you never lost someone important to you?" His eyes narrowed angrily and he turned back to the railing. "Just what would you do if your mother died?"

"Before or after I stopped laughing?"

"Right, very creepy." Alistair sighed. "Forget I asked."

Serena frowned, looking out over the bridge's railing. The walk here had been uncomfortable, with Alistair avoiding her gaze and Morrigan completely content to not say much of anything. She wished she could pull him aside and explain that last night hadn't been a rejection, not at all, she had just been startled and... She sighed.

"You have been very quiet, Alistair," she said softly, her eyes still on the town. She felt him shift beside her, his eyes studying her profile.

"Yes, I know. I was just... thinking."

"No wonder it took so long, then," Morrigan muttered crossly.

"Oh, I get it." Alistair turned, leaning on railing with his arms. Serena glanced between the two of them, waiting for the inevitable theatrics. "This is the part where we're shocked to discover how you've never had a friend your entire life, right?"

"I can be friendly when I desire to," the witch shot back. "Alas, desiring to be more_ intelligent_ does not make it so."

Alistair held up a hand, stopping her stream of insults. "Anyway..." He glanced over at Serena, and it was the first time he had looked her in the eyes directly since the night before. "I thought we should talk about where we intend to go, first."

Serena shrugged, her energy zapped, despite it only being the early afternoon. Maybe it was their bickering that took so much out of her. "We should try and use these treaties, I assume."

"I agree," Alistair said, his eyes searching her face. "Have you... looked at them at all?"

"Briefly, in my tent last night." Serena pulled them from her knapsack, handing them to Alistair, pointedly avoiding _his_ gaze now. "There's three main groups, I think."

"Yes, the Dalish elves, the dwarves of Orzammar, and the Circle of Magi." He flipped briefly through the sheets of paper, studying them quickly. "I also still think that Arl Eamon is our best bet for help. We might even want to go to him first."

"Then we'll resupply here, and head to Redcliffe tomorrow." She glanced between the two of them, waiting for their objections, but surprisingly neither of them said anything.

Serena shrugged, leading the other three across the bridge to the exit for the little town. It was there that they ran into a group of men lazing about. Various boxes and satchels lay about their little makeshift camp. Serena quickly surveyed the scene, assuming the worst.

"Wake up, gentlemen! More travelers to attend to!" A dark haired man shouted, rousing the others. He appeared very well armored for a stroll along the Imperial Highway. Serena put a hand on the daggers at her side.

"I'd guess the pretty one is the leader," the man said, sizing her up, his dark eyes lingering on her chest.

"Err... they don't look much like them others, you know." A balding rogue came to stand next to his leader, eyeing Serena's group uncertainly. "Uh... maybe we should just let these ones pass..."

The leader smiled engagingly at Serena and she noticed his face was dirty, like they'd spent days sleeping on this road. "Nonsense, Hanric. Greetings, travelers!"

Alistair came to stand at Serena's side, his tall figure adding to their groups' intimidation factor. He leaned in, speaking softly so only she would hear him. "Highwaymen. They're preying on those fleeing the darkspawn, I suppose."

"They are fools to get in our way," Morrigan said clearly from Serena's other side. She was leaning lazily on her staff, but her yellow eyes were alert. Beside her, Peanut barked happily. "I say we teach them a lesson."

"Now is that any way to greet someone?" The dark haired leader shook his head in mock exasperation at their group. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. A simple ten silvers and you're free to move on."

Serena stepped forward, her smile coming easily. "You should listen to your friend," she cooed at the leader. "We're not refugees." She pulled one of her silverite daggers and flipped it in her hand idly.

"What did I tell you? No wagons, and this ones armed!" The bald fat man watched Serena flipping the dagger, his eyes following it up and down, over and over. "We ought to just let them by."

"The toll applies to everyone, Hanric," the leader said, standing his ground and turning back to Serena. "That's why it's a toll, and not, say, a refugee tax."

"Oh, right." The bald man turned to their group, straightening his shoulders. "Even if you're no refugee, you still gotta pay."

"That's funny," Serena said. "You don't look like toll collectors..."

"Ah, but its for the upkeep of the Imperial Highway here!" The leader grinned at her again, and Serena felt Alistair shift beside her, his hand on his sword hilt. "It's a bit of a mess, isn't it?"

"You've been doing a bang up job then," Serena replied, her eyes narrowed at the man. She stepped forward, moving past the group. "Now, if you'll excuse us-"

"It's not really a _toll_," another bandit said, stepping in to block her way. This one was stocky and well muscled. "We're just robbing you, see?"

"Do shut up..." the leader remarked, his eyes rolling. He moved to stand behind Serena so she was cut off from Alistair and the others. "Even a genlock would have understood _that_."

Serena pulled her dagger, quick as a flash and slid it across the lackey's throat. He dropped like a sack at her feet, his blood already pooling at her feet. She turned on the leader, her second dagger poking into his side. "You saw how this ended for your poor friend here. Do you really want to fight a Grey Warden?"

"Did she say she's a Grey Warden?" mumbled the bald one from behind the leader. "Them ones killed the king!"

"Traitors to Ferelden, I hear," the leader said smoothly, backing up from Serena's blade. "Teyrn Loghain put quite a bounty on any that are found."

"Did he now?" Serena said dangerously, and once again she felt Alistair at her side. She heard the metal scrape of his sword being drawn. Behind her, Peanut growled.

"But, aren't them Grey Wardens _good_, boss?" The balding man glanced down at his dead friend. "I mean,_ really_ good? Good enough to kill a king?"

"You... have a point," the leader conceded. He exchanged a quick glance with one of his fellows, nodding. "Well... let's just forget about the tax, eh? We'll just leave you all to your darkspawn-fighting, king-killing ways, shall we?"

"You really are _too_ kind," Serena said, advancing on the leader again with her blade. "Go. Leave your things." She grinned at the dark haired leader, slicing the laces holding his leather armor together. "We'll take care of it all for you."

"Of... course," the man said, holding his breastplate together with one hand and waving to his surviving fellows with the other. "We'll just be going now. Do enjoy your stay in Lothering and all that." They bolted down the road Serena and her group had come from, their packs and other things left in a heap nearby.

"Well done," Morrigan said, her tone infinitely approving. She came forward and started rummaging through their packs. "I honestly didn't know you had that in you."

"Neither did I," Alistair added, his voice right near her ear. She turned and grinned at him, glad that their earlier awkwardness had evaporated. "Promise you won't stick me with those things if I make you angry?"

"I promise nothing," Serena said, sheathing her daggers. "Plus, I think you rather like the danger of it all."

"This is true." Alistair kneeled down, sorting through the bandit's discarded things. "Oh, shiny!" He pulled a long sword out of its sheath, admiring the blade. He tested the weight in his hand. "This is perfect..." Alistair strapped the new cover to his belt, sheathing the pristine sword inside. "Maybe I should donate this one to the Chantry?"

"Or you could sell it," Morrigan replied, rolling her eyes. "All this adventuring isn't free, you know."

"Hey, did you two see this?" Serena put down the knapsack she'd been rifling through to kneel beside an enormous crate. "Someone is... someone is lodged back here." She tugged on the crate, Alistair coming over to help her push. He looked down at the body and grimaced. Morrigan pointedly ignored them.

"It's a templar," he said quietly. "He's..." Serena stared down at the man's body, his arms and legs lying in strange angles. "The bandits must have ambushed him, looted his corpse, and then shoved him back here."

"That's awful!" Serena fell to her knees next to the slain man. "Is there... does he have any identification on him?" She ran her hands through his pockets, pulling out some papers and a small amulet. She scanned the papers quickly. "The amulet doesn't say anything, and these are all about some... urn? Do you think anyone in the Chantry here would know him?"

"It's worth a try," Alistair said, he put out his hand to help her up. "He could have just been passing through, but we should check, just in case." Serena nodded, placing the amulet in one of her belt pouches. She turned to Morrigan, who seemed to have finished canvassing the bandits' supplies.

"Did you find anything else useful?"

"Oh, many things, yes. About 100 silvers, along with some things I think we should hold onto, in case funds run low, which they eventually shall, considering how much you two seem to eat." She gave each of the Grey Wardens a sharp look, and Serena could feel herself blush.

"The rest is practical... there were some small weapons and things, some food rations, a couple of healing packs..." She handed a large backpack to Serena. "I noticed your own pack is rather small, too, so I grabbed this one for you-"

"Thank you, Morrigan!" Serena slipped her own pack off and started exchanging her things into the new larger one. She was right, this one held at least twice as much, and she could stash her bedroll inside it instead of having to tie it to the outside. "This is... thank you."

"'Tis nothing," the witch replied, smiling gently.

"Well, will wonders never cease? Look at you," Alistair said, chuckling softly. "Making friends, after all." Morrigan rolled her eyes, turning away. Alistair grinned at Serena, offering his arm to her. "Shall we?"

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><p>Despite Alistair's earlier assessment of the little village, Lothering turned out to be a depressing hole of a town. Upon entering, they were immediately accosted by angry villagers and even angrier refugees.<p>

Morrigan quickly broke off from them, muttering about searching for a merchant to trade with and Serena waved her off. She hoped the witch would find a merchant she could barter successfully with, but Serena assumed Morrigan's quick exit had more to do with the nearby clamor than their need for coin. Taking one look at Serena, Peanut had turned and followed the witch.

"There ain't no room here, so don't none of you even think about staying!" a man shouted, a small child clinging to his leg.

"We gots quite enough to be getting on with them darkspawn about in the damn forests, and we don't need more damn refugees like you about!" exclaimed another, slamming his door.

"They're just so _friendly_," Serena muttered to Alistair as they passed. "I rather think I might come back here, once the Blight's over. Seems like a lovely place to raise a family..."

"First you just have to land yourself a husband," Alistair remarked, his eyebrow quirking.

Serena laughed. "Oh, well, that shouldn't be too hard. I'm a _Grey Warden_, Alistair, and there's apparently a huge bounty on my head, to boot! What man _wouldn't_ want a piece of this?" She waved a hand to indicate her body.

"You know, you have a point." He cast a gaze around the tired looking village, a smirk visible on his lips. "Maybe I should start searching for a wife myself..." Serena gently pushed him and he laughed. "Okay, okay, maybe not here. The next town, then? You seem like a good judge of character, Serena. Maybe you could help me out?"

"I will do no such thing," Serena said, sticking her tongue out at him. "I'm not some village matchmaker, Alistair. If you want a wife so badly, you'll have to woo her without _my_ help."

"Ouch. Considering my luck with women, looks like I ought to re-join the Chantry... become a brother of the faith... live a life of religious contemplation..." He leaned close, dropping his voice to a seductive whisper. "I might as well lose all hope of ever landing a lady in my bed..."

"I absolutely _hate_ you," Serena hissed at him, her face blushing red. "You know that, right? _Especially_ right now?"

"I do," he replied, grinning. "And I absolutely _love_ it." They passed near a tavern called Dane's Refuge and Serena tugged on his hand softly.

"Could we stop, just really quickly? Maybe grab something to drink?" Her face took on a sweet pleading look Alistair couldn't have resisted had he even wanted to, so he simply nodded, holding the door open for her. They saddled up the small bar, Alistair signaling to the bartender on duty.

"Two... uh..." Alistair turned to Serena uncertainly. "I don't think I ever asked what you drink?"

"Portsmouth ale, if you have it," Serena finished, addressing the barman.

"We don't carry Portsmouth since the highways been overtaken by them bandits," the bartender replied. "We do have Amber Dawn, though, straight over from South Reach."

"That'll be fine," Serena said, passing a handful of coppers across the bar. The man slapped down two flagons of ale and moved on to serve another customer. She took a swallow of the heady brew and sighed. "Now_ this_ is how you start an adventure."

Alistair took a swig from his own ale and looking sideways at her. "Serena, I'm not sure how to say this... I wanted to apologize."

Serena peered at him curiously. "Apologize? For what?"

Alistair cleared his throat, his countenance suddenly tense. "Last night, mostly..."

"Oh, that." Serena swirled a finger around the rim of her mug. "I actually wanted to talk to you about that, too." She looked up at him and her blue eyes were utterly earnest. "I really-"

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here, boys." Serena saw a large hand smack onto the bar next to her and she groaned. "Two little hapless Grey Wardens, all ready for us. I think we've just been blessed."

Serena glanced at Alistair, her voice clear. "Why is it we never seem capable of having a single pint without _someone _trying to kill us?"

"Must be our engaging personalities," Alistair replied with a snort. "I think these are Loghain's men, they have the seal of Gwaren on their armor." He turned on his stool to regard the man. "May I help you? My lady friend here and I were just sitting down to have a drink together and-"

"Shut it, Blondie," the large man snapped. "We _ain't_ here for none of your jokes."

"Yes, Alistair, they are _not_ here for our jokes," Serena mocked. She could see the leader's flesh redden as he realized he didn't intimidate them. "They are here to attempt to threat us and possibly try to shove very pointy things into our tender flesh."

"I'd love to shove some of my pointy things into _your_ tender flesh, gorgeous," another one of Loghain's men said. "Traitorous or not, I bet you taste _real_ good. Why don't you ditch Blondie here and come out with us?"

"Oh, my, and with such an invitation, how can I possibly resist?" Serena hopped off her stool, smiling. "See, Alistair? Here's a husband for me already." She leaned towards the man, her hand sliding to her dagger.

"Serena... don't rough him up too badly," Alistair called, grinning. He turned to the large man acting as their leader. "I really can't take her anywhere anymore, she just gets..."

Behind the man, Serena kneed her admirer hard in the groin then kicked, knocking his legs out from under him. He grabbed one of his fellows and they both tumbled to the ground as Serena crunched one of his hands under her boot. He howled in pain and a few nearby patrons laughed at the sight.

"...So excited," Alistair finished. He stood from his stool and was surprised to find he had a good five inches on the man, he didn't even come up to his nose. Alistair pulled his new long sword from its sheath and smiled. "You're Loghain's men," he said, pushing the man right at the yellow wyvern on his armor. The man stumbled, tripping over one of his lackeys, and fell to the ground.

"Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble. These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge in our small town." A red haired woman in bright Chantry robes stepped forward.

"They're more than that! They're Grey Wardens, these two!" one of the fallen lackeys cried. He tried to stand up but Serena shook her finger back and forth menacingly.

"Ah, ah, my good fellow. I would stay down if I were you," Serena teased.

The red haired woman came to stand beside Serena and she saw the woman had a small sword strapped to her back. How _interesting_. She was unaware that the Chantry sisters carried weapons these days.

"Get out of it, Sister. You protect these traitors, you'll get the same as them."

"Oh, come now! Traitor is such a harsh word." Serena put the heel of her boot on one of the man's fingers and pressed it down. She could hear a loud crack as the finger broke. The man grimaced but said nothing. "Can't we just _talk_ about this little… misunderstanding?"

"I doubt he would listen," the Chantry sister replied. She had an interesting accent; certainly she was not a native of Ferelden. "He blindly follows his master's commands."

"I am not the blind one!" one of the bearded lackeys yelled. "I served at Ostagar, where the teyrn saved us from the Grey Wardens' treachery! I serve him gladly!"

"So by _saved you_, you mean he had you slink back to the north while the rest of us fought for our lives and died for our king?" Alistair held his sword tip to the leader's throat. A small trail of blood was beginning to trickle down the man's neck. "Is_ that_ what you mean?"

"Enough talk," a new guard came forward and Serena realized she hadn't even known he was a part of the group. "Take the Wardens into custody. Kill the sister and anyone else that gets in your way."

"And who is going to do that, exactly?" Serena asked. "Your fellows are quite indisposed, and…" She pulled one of her throwing knives and landed it right in the man's helm. It stuck out awkwardly from the leather and the man peered at it, his nerve shattering. "You seem less inclined to take advantage of us now, too."

The man pulled the knife from his helm and removed it. His forehead had a small cut in it that was bleeding freely down his face. "All right, you've, uh... made your point."

"Oh, puns! I love it." Serena pulled another knife and tossed it at the man, landing it in his boot. He howled and tried to jump back, tripping and slamming his head into the bar. Serena frowned as she watched their pints of ale tip over the bar and land on the men.

"You've won, we surrender!" he shouted from the ground, his other men were nodding, terrified.

"Good. They've learned their lesson and we can all stop fighting now," the Chantry sister said. Serena glanced at her and smiled, and saw the expression reflected on the red haired woman's face.

"Before you go, would you mind relaying a message to Loghain for us?" Serena pressed her heel onto the man's hand and he yelped.

"W-what do you want to tell him?" the man spluttered.

"Tell him the Grey Wardens know what really happened," Alistair said suddenly, his sword pushing against the throat of the man at the bar. "Tell him he'll pay for what he's done, and we'll be coming for him."

"Yes, that's perfect," Serena said, clapping a hand on the back of the injured man at her feet. "Now, feel free to leave the bar and never return."

"I'll... yes. I'll go tell him. Right away." The man stubbled up with his fellows. "Now, even. Thank you for not killing us!"

"Goodbye! I hope you enjoyed your time in Lothering and all that!" Serena called, echoing the bandits' final greeting. She turned back to the bar, where Alistair still had the man on the end of his sword. Serena grabbed the man by the arm and swung him in the direction of the exit. "You, too, I'm afraid. We won't have any stragglers."

The man stumbled and fell to the ground, clutching his neck. "I... right. Goodbye." He scrambled out the door on all fours as the bar patrons laughed and cat called.

"I apologize for interfering," the Chantry sister said. "But I couldn't just sit by and not help."

"Well, we certainly appreciate what you tried to do," Serena replied, elbowing Alistair to put his long sword away.

"I'm glad you found it in your heart to offer those men mercy." The red haired woman extended a small hand to Serena. "Let me introduce myself. I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the chantry here in Lothering. Or, I was, rather."

"Was?" Alistair asked.

"I joined the Chantry to live a life of religious contemplation," the woman explained. "But I am no priest, not even an initiate."

"Right, well, neither are we, so you're in good company." Serena shook the woman's hand. "I'm Serena, and this hulking beast of a man is Alistair."

"Hulking beast of a man?" Alistair said, rolling his eyes. "Are you trying to tell me I'm fat?"

"It got boring just calling you Alistair," Serena replied, shrugging her shoulders. "And yes, you are getting a bit rotund around the middle if you ask me." She turned back to the Chantry sister, Leliana. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sister."

"Those men said you're a Grey Warden. You will be... battling the darkspawn, yes? That is what Grey Wardens do?" She paused, wringing her hands a little. "I know after what happened in the south... you'll need all the help you can get. That's why I'm coming along."

"Forward, isn't she?" Alistair observed. "Hello, pleasure to meet you, I heard you all like risking your lives, so I'm coming with you!"

"Oh, well, we will need the help," Serena reasoned. She dropped her voice so only Alistair could hear her. "And she certainly seems more friendly than Morrigan, no?"

"Pffft, your boot kicking me in the front of the pants is more friendly than Morrigan, Serena."

"The Maker wants me to go with you," Leliana said suddenly, as if she could sense them deciding against her coming along.

Serena exchanged glances with Alistair again. "Err, could you... elaborate?"

"I... I know that sounds... absolutely insane- but it's true! I had a dream... a vision!"

"Oh boy," Alistair muttered. "More crazy? And here I thought we were all full up."

"Look at the people here. They are lost in their despair," the sister pleaded. "And this darkness, this chaos... will spread. The Maker doesn't want this. What you do, what you are meant to do, is the Maker's work. Let me help you!"

"Of course," Serena said, smiling at the woman. "I will not turn away help when it is so... earnestly given."

"Thank you! I appreciate being given this chance. I promise I will _not_ let you down."

"Let me warn you, though," Serena said seriously. "This bar scuffle was nothing. Alistair and I have not been Wardens for very long, but already we have seen... many deaths. This will not be an easy road to walk."

"No, I understand. More than you could know." The woman ducked her head briefly, intoning a passage from the Chant of Light. "_Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just_."

Serena smiled, liking this woman more and more every minute. "That is one of my favorite passages. I think it'll be good to have you along. Do you have your things here?"

Leliana shook her head. "They are in the cloister at the Chantry, I can retrieve them quickly though."

"Ah, no matter. We need to visit the Chantry anyway," Alistair said, tapping the pouch the dead templar's amulet was in. "Remember?"

"Oh yes," Serena replied. "Well, seeing as our pints are on the ground, perhaps we should just head over there now?" Leliana nodded, leading the way out of the bar. Upon exiting, they immediately ran into Morrigan.

"Ah, there you are," the witch called. She handed Serena a large pouch that jingled with coin and pointed. "I sold the extra things we did not need, but there is... something interesting over this way I would like you to see."

Morrigan led them over a small bridge and into a wide field. "He is over here."

"Wait... he?" Alistair asked. He glanced at Serena, his face a mixture of curiosity and confusion. Serena simply shrugged, waiting to see what the witch was up to. What they found was the last thing she had expected.


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note: **There's a little bit of backstory in this chapter, that uh, never occurs in-game, but always seemed plausible enough to me. Ferelden isn't such a large land that nobles wouldn't have visited each other frequently, as Bann Loren showed us back at Castle Cousland. Thanks to those of you following the story, and especially those reviewing! It's greatly appreciated.

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><p><span>Chapter 22<span> - _The Qunari Question_

Serena elbowed Alistair lightly, whispering. "You know how I called you a hulking beast of a man earlier? I take it back." Her eyes slowly turned to the enormous man in the cage that Morrigan had led them to moments before. "I had no basis for comparison until now."

"Isn't this creature magnificent? 'Tis a horrible thing to see him locked up, a waiting treat for the oncoming darkspawn horde." The witch stood at the cage, closer than Serena herself would have stood certainly, and gazed upon the large man within.

"Morrigan... this isn't a zoo," Serena said thoughtfully. "He's a _man_. In a cage." She turned to the man. "Why _are_ you in a cage?"

"I've been placed here by the Chantry." The man's voice was deep and he spoke slowly, as if he was thinking about every word he spoke beforehand.

"The revered mother said he slaughtered an entire family with his bare hands," Leliana said in a loud whisper. "Even the children."

"It is as she says." The man peered at Serena, his eyes were drastically pale in comparison to his deep bronze skin. "I am Sten of the Beresaad- the vanguard- of the qunari peoples."

"I'm Serena... uh, pleased to meet you." She had no idea what a qunari was doing here in Lothering of all places, or even in all of Ferelden. From what she knew of them, the qunari lived in the far north, beyond the Free Marches even, on an island called Par Vollen.

"You mock me," the qunari rumbled. "Or you show manners I have not come to expect in your lands." He paused, his head bowing. "Though it matters little, now. I will die soon enough."

Beside her, Alistair cleared his throat. "Uh, not to put too fine a point on it, but the qunari are renowned warriors. If we could release him, perhaps he might consent to help us?"

Serena thought about this a moment. It was true they could surely use someone of his size, even if just for the sheer intimidating presence he seemed to wear about him as a cloak. The qunari was easily a foot taller than even Alistair, who was certainly no slouch in the height department.

"Dear ser, we are sworn to defend this land against the Blight. We could certainly use your help." Serena could see Morrigan shoot her an approving glance.

"The Blight? Are you a Grey Warden, then?"

"Yes, Alistair and I are both Grey Wardens," Serena said, motioning to herself and her fellow. "The last, actually, in this land."

"My people have heard legends of the Grey Wardens' strength and skill..." He sized up Serena and the others with his pale eyes. "Though I suppose not every legend is true."

Serena turned to Alistair and Leliana, shrugging. "We need to go to the Chantry anyway. It couldn't hurt to ask the revered mother, right?" She glanced at Leliana. "You seem to know her, do you think she would agree to let him go?"

"I am... unsure." The red haired woman peered at the prisoner and then back at Serena. "She is not the most merciful woman I have served. Perhaps if we phrased it in a way that would make it seem as if we were doing her a favor? Or perhaps if it risked a war with the qunari... I think she would relent to us taking him off her hands. Surely standing with us would be an infinitely better fate than to be devoured by darkspawn in a cage."

"I agree," Serena replied. She turned to Sten. "We'll go see if we can't release you into our company. Would that be... all right with you? Would you like to join us?"

The qunari frowned, his eyes narrowing at Serena. "If I thought the woman would release the key to this cage to you, then yes, I would follow you in your campaign to end the Blight."

"Alright, well... we'll be back," Serena said, waving to the others to follow.

"I will stay here with him," Morrigan stated, leaning against the fence post. "I do not wish to enter that Chantry, anyway." Peanut curled up beside her feet and fell asleep. Serena nodded to her and headed off to the large Chantry building in the center of the town.

"If I didn't know better, I might think my dog has a bit of a crush on her," Serena said. "First the dead squirrel in her tent, now he's following her around everywhere..."

Alistair snorted. "It's disturbing. Especially since I'd come to think your mabari was actually _smart_."

"She seems nice enough," Leliana added. "If a bit... odd." She waved to one of the templars at the door of the Chantry and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. "I will just get my things and meet you both back here... unless you think you might need my help with the revered mother?"

Serena considered this. "Actually... yes, you know her much better than either of us. When you've gathered your things, could you meet us just over there by the pews?" Leliana nodded, disappearing behind a door leading to the back of the Chantry.

The Lothering Chantry was easily the largest building in the entire town. The inside was kept up moderately well, considering the outpouring of need that had developed as a result of the recent influx of refugees to the tiny town. Pews lined the walls where many people, mostly women, could be seen praying or talking amongst one another quietly.

"Serena, that man... his shield has the Redcliffe insignia on it..." Alistair discreetly pointed to a man standing over by the bookcases. "What would he be doing in Lothering?"

"Let's go find out," Serena said with shrug. She politely tapped the dark haired man on the shoulder. "Hello, ah, we noticed that your-"

"Ser Donall? Is that you?"

Serena glanced at the blonde. "Wait, you _know_ him?"

"Alistair?" The man, Ser Donall, moved forward and clapped Alistair into a hug. "By the Maker, how are you? I... I was certain you were dead!"

"Not yet, no thanks to Teyrn Loghain," Alistair said bitterly.

The man's dark head nodded sympathetically. "If Arl Eamon were well, he'd set Loghain straight soon enough."

"If he were well? What do you mean? Is the arl sick?"

"The arl is stricken with an illness that threatens his very life, I'm afraid," the knight explained. "We have... found no cure for it, either natural or magical."

"When did this happen?" Serena asked.

"Only a few weeks ago, but... he has declined quickly." Ser Donall leaned towards them, dropping his voice to a bare whisper. "No one knows the nature of the illness, and even magic has done little to slow its progress." He sighed sadly. "Our only hope now is a miracle. Every knight of Redcliffe has gone in search of the Urn of Sacred Ashes."

Serena exchanged glances with Alistair. "...The holy ashes of Andraste?"

"Yes, they are said to cure any illness," the knight replied, shrugging. "But I fear we are chasing a fable. With each day, my hope dims."

"We should see what's happening in Redcliffe for ourselves," Alistair whispered to her. "I believe that now more than ever." Serena nodded, pulling out the templar's amulet and turned back to the knight.

"We found a man on the highway, he had been... slain, by the bandits." She handed the amulet to Ser Donall, who examined it. "This amulet was all that was left, along with these notes, do you recognize it?"

"This is... this is Ser Henric's locket," the knight said sadly, holding the necklace in his hand. "He was the other knight accompanying me here from Redcliffe." He sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Maker's mercy... I can't believe it... thank you, for giving me these. I... would never have known otherwise."

"We're both truly sorry for your loss, Ser Donall," Serena said, bowing her head to the man.

"Thank you. I wonder how many of us have met similar fates on this mad quest..." He shook his head again. "I need to return to Redcliffe..." He handed Serena back the notes, closing them in her hand. "Perhaps you should hang onto this. I... must go." With a bow of his head, the knight hurried out of the Chantry.

"Well... this bodes well for our cause," Serena said stiffly. She followed Alistair to one of the pews and sat down in a huff. "Next I imagine we'll run into someone insisting that we'll have to do this blindfolded."

"I can't believe Arl Eamon is sick..." Alistair shook his head. "Duncan told me he visited Redcliffe just a few weeks ago, right before heading north to..." He glanced at Serena quickly. "To Highever. How did he manage to become gravely ill in just this short time?"

"It's certainly bizarre," Serena replied. She was thankful to see that the twinge of guilt she felt at the mention of her former home was less now. "Do you suspect Loghain is behind this?"

"Honestly, after Ostagar... nothing that man did would surprise me anymore." Alistair sighed again, leaning back into the pew. "If the arl is out of our reach, what will we do?"

"Perhaps the arlessa can help us in his stead?" Serena suggested. "I met her once or twice, she's... capable enough. Bit, err, high strung, though."

Alistair was watching Serena now, his eyes studying her features. Serena wondered sometimes if he didn't think about perhaps painting her portrait, since he must know her face by heart now. "Arlessa Isolde? When did you meet her?"

"Oh, I was very young. I believe the arl had recently married her, in fact." Serena bit her lip, trying to remember her first visit to Redcliffe. "Their boy had just been born, that was it! He's just a year older than Oren... My father was good friends with Eamon, and we'd come to congratulate them. A boy for an heir, you know... that's a big deal and all, especially considering Eamon was... you know, getting a bit older." Serena sighed, running her thumb over the griffon on her Grey Warden pendent. "I must have been eight or nine then... so babies didn't interest me much."

"I was... getting a little underfoot, I suppose, so Isolde said it would be alright if I... explored the castle a bit." Serena smiled impishly. "Well, she didn't_ say_ I could exactly, but everyone just seemed so busy. Anyway, you've been to Redcliffe, right? I ended up down in their stables, and it was... Amazing!"

"Ah, yes, I spent some time there in my wily youth," Alistair answered, turning red. "The arl… raised me for a bit, actually, after my mom passed. Didn't care for the stables all too much, though..."

"Oh, I'd just never seen so many horses in my life. Our stables in Highever were maybe, half that size?" Alistair watched as Serena's eyes glazed over slightly with the memory. "And I found a little boy there to keep me company for the afternoon, as well. He had these little wooden swords, and we spent the afternoon smacking them around. He was such a sweet boy... but he couldn't get my name right, he kept calling me-"

"Miss Lady Sena," Alistair answered. Serena turned to him, her eyes going wide.

"How... how did you know that? You-"

"I was the sweet little boy," Alistair said, his eyes dropping to the floor. "I... I didn't recognize you at first, at Ostagar..." He looked up at her again, and his face had screwed up into a crooked smile. "I mean, look at you! You're all tall... and... you know? And it's been ten years! But then when you told me your name... I sort of... remembered you."

Serena eyed him carefully, her fingers tapping the wood of the bench. "And you didn't think to tell me? You_ knew_ who I was and you didn't think to mention 'oh yes, we met years ago when we were kids'... And to think I told Rahim, oh no, we only met last week! But that wasn't true, was it? No, no, no… We met ten _years_ ago!"

"I didn't think you'd_ remember_ me!" Alistair burst out. "I thought... I was just a bastard stable boy, and you were a teyrn's daughter! Why would _you_ have any cause to remember _me_?"

"You were my first kiss! Ever!" Serena realized people were starting to stare at them and she dropped her voice. "How could I _not_ remember you?" She shook her head, her disbelief slowly turning into embarrassed acceptance. "You were my first kiss."

"If it makes you feel any better, you were mine, too," Alistair said quietly.

Serena laughed, but it was more self-deprecating than anything else. "Weirdly enough, that sort of makes me feel better. Your hair still does the same silly spike thing, too," she said, running a hand through it. "I _should_ have known. I should have_ remembered_. How could I... ugh."

Alistair put his hand over hers and she watched it for a moment, their two hands intertwining naturally, as she silently willed her face to resume its normal color. "I should have said something."

"Yes," Serena agreed. "You should have." She sighed, squeezing his hand. "You kissed better back then, you know."

Alistair grinned, his cheeks pink. "Ah, did I now...?"

"Mmmhmm," Serena murmured. "Much more finesse." She disengaged her hand and stood. "There's Leliana. We should... we should go see if we can't get Sten out." Serena noticed the sister had thankfully changed out of her Chantry robes and into some light armor. Serena wondered if that came standard issue with the short sword.

"Yeah..." Alistair stood up and followed the two women into the next room, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

Would there ever be a moment between them that wasn't ruined in some way? Either by Loghain, or that witch Morrigan, or his own foolishness? He sighed, resound to his fate as the most graceless man in all of Thedas.


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note:** The story Leliana tells is called _Alindra and her Soldier_, and you can get to hear it if you romance her. Obviously nobody is romancing her here, but it seems appropriate, regardless. Rainesfere is a city mentioned in-game (Teagan is Bann of the area) and Vintiver is from the Blood of Ferelden tabletop expansion. It's east of Lothering, along the West Road, I believe.

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><p><span>Chapter 23 <span>- _Leaving Lothering_

The trip out of Lothering was about as exciting as the trip in. They had easily gotten the key from the Revered Mother with Leliana's help- it appeared that the qunari made everyone nervous, and Serena doubted they wouldn't appreciate seeing the back of him. Honestly, Serena didn't blame them. The man was difficult at every turn, and for such a seemingly quiet man, he sure had a lot in the way of opinions.

While leaving, refugees had once again accosted their group, only these had been brandishing weapons rather than words. Luckily, Leliana had talked them out of harming anyone. Serena pleaded with them to move on from the little town, that it's location, so close to the Wilds, would surely bring darkspawn upon their heads before long. With the army gone, they would be without any protection.

"And where shall we go, then?" one of the refugees had said.

"Rainesfere to the west, or Vintiver, or... or South Reach," Serena replied, thinking quickly. "Any would be larger than here, and more likely to be able to take you in. Please, just take your families and _go!_ This town is not safe from the Blight, I assure you." After that, the refugees had scattered, mumbling curses and other things. Yes, Serena was nothing but glad to lead the way out of Lothering. What a miserable little town.

But barely back onto the Imperial Highway, Peanut began to bark wildly, dashing forward around a bend.

"That mutt is a problem, truly," Morrigan muttered to Serena, pulling her staff. "He probably saw a squirrel or some other dead thing he can place in my tent."

"No, it's..." Serena touched her head where a burning headache had begun.

"It's darkspawn," Alistair answered, sprinting after the hound. He had his sword drawn already, disappearing around the bend.

A group of at least six darkspawn were attacking a large merchant's cart with their rusted weapons. Two dwarves were shouting and racing around the cart, desperately trying to avoid them. Soon the blonde one simply crawled under the wagon altogether, watching as the other dwarf continued running. Serena realized he was the one doing all the shouting.

Peanut was already engaged with two of the beasts, while Alistair took on another with his sword. Reaching them, Serena pulled her bow, shooting one in the face and another in the leg as her mabari ripped its throat out. Leliana, too, had taken out her sword and was pummeling one of the smaller creatures across the face with the blade.

Beside her, Serena could see Morrigan casting, a bolt of what looked like frost shot out of the end of her staff, freezing one of the fat darkspawn in its tracks. Sten stood beside the witch, taller than even the largest darkspawn; he plowed forward and punched the frozen fiend, shattering it into pieces.

Serena loosened another few arrows from her bow and then they were done as quickly as they had begun. Pulling one of her arrows from a downed darkspawn, she inspected the tip for damage. Black ichor clung to it, but otherwise, the arrow was perfect. She popped it back into her quiver, moving around the small battlefield to collect the rest. Perhaps the tainted arrows could be used against other enemies as effectively as another poison?

"Mighty timely arrival there, my friend!" One of the dwarves waved to Serena, his braided beard twisting into a grin. "I'm much obliged. The name's Bodahn Feddic, merchant and entrepreneur." He put an arm around the young blonde dwarf coming up behind him. "This here is my son, Sandal. Say hello, my boy."

The boy peered at Serena, his eyes wide and dull. "Hello."

"Road's been mighty dangerous these days," Bodahn continued, completely unfazed by his son's obvious simplemindedness. "Mind if I ask what brings you out here? Perhaps we're going the same way."

"I... we're headed to Redcliffe, presently," Serena replied, glancing at Alistair for confirmation. "You're welcome to come along, we could certainly use the-"

"Wait, now we're picking up _dwarves_?" Morrigan huffed. "What is this, a caravan of misfits?"

Serena frowned at her and continued to Bodahn as if she hadn't spoken. "You're welcome to come along if you'd like, Mister Feddic. We could... offer you protection in exchange for access to your goods?"

"Ah, I suspect there's more excitement on your path than my boy and I can handle," the dwarf said, considering her proposition. "But your rescue here _was_ rather timely... perhaps we'll just accompany you to Redcliffe, see how it goes on the road. And of course, I can offer you all a great discount on my goods, for your help."

"Fantastic," Serena said, shaking the dwarf's hand. She could hear Morrigan's irritated sigh behind her but pointedly ignored it. "So... Shall we help you clean up this mess so we can get back on the road?"

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><p>Alistair hadn't foreseen how very crowded camp could become now that they'd added two new companions and a merchant wagon to their little party. The dwarves both slept in their wagon just beyond the firelight of their camp. While the qunari, Sten, seemed perfectly content on his own, or even stranger, in the company of Morrigan at her bizarre tent contraption, Leliana had preferred to camp near him and Serena.<p>

Admittedly, that left little time for him to speak to Serena alone.

"So, you were born in Orlais?" Serena asked. "What made you come to Ferelden? And to _Lothering_ of all places..." She wrinkled her nose, as if the memory of the village they'd just left had caused a disgusting smell to linger in the air.

"It is a long story," Leliana replied, stirring her stew slowly. "But my mother was from Ferelden. Denerim, actually. It was during the occupation when she came to work for an Orlesian noble. When Orlais was defeated by King Maric, the common folk began to resent the presence of _any_ Orlesian, and so the lady returned to Orlais taking my mother with her to Val Royeaux."

"That is when I was born, when my mother went back with Lady Cecilie. But... Mother died when I was very young," she continued, sighing. "Lady Cecilie let me stay with her... I had no one else. She was quite old then, and she had me study music and dance to entertain her. That is where I learned how to play this." Leliana tapped the flat front of her nearby lute with a stylish boot.

"Oh, I absolutely love the sound of a lute," Serena replied, smiling happily. "Back in Highever, every fall we would have a harvest festival, with music and dancing..." She paused, and Alsitair could see her cheeks reddening in the firelight. He loved when she would relate stories from her childhood, she always looked so happy. "When I was little, I thought it was for me, since it happened so close to my birthday."

"When is your birthday?" Leliana asked, setting her bowl down and picking up the lute. She strummed it gently a few times, frowning, then put it back down. "That needs to be tuned badly..." she murmured.

"The 15th of September," Serena said. "I'll be 19. It's not a big deal, but my nephew Oren's... his birthday was the week before, and we were going to have a double party. He was going to be ten. I... told him you only turn ten once..." Alistair saw her quickly wipe at her eyes. He leaned over, putting an arm around her.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Leliana said, placing one of her hands on Serena's knee consolingly. "It is always so very hard when we lose those we are close to, especially when they are young."

"Yes, he was... such a sweet boy. I was... supposed to teach him to shoot." Serena leaned into Alistair's embrace, and he could feel her relax a bit against his chest. Her hand searched for his and grasped it gently. "I miss them all, but it's getting easier."

"If you don't mind me asking... was it darkspawn? Is that why you became a Grey Warden?"

"No, it was... it was... an evil man who my father thought was his friend." Alistair felt her hand squeeze his unconsciously as her sorrow was replaced with outrage. "He had his men massacre my family... Maker, who knows? If he could kill a child, he probably took everyone left in the castle..." Serena paused, ducking her head low. "I swear, if he knows what's good for him, he'll never show his face to me again."

"And if he does, we'll be right there beside you, Serena," Alistair said softly. She turned to him, staring right into his hazel eyes, and he swore to himself if Leliana hadn't been there, he would have kissed her right then. But then the moment passed, and she was shaking her head.

"Anyway, I shouldn't be bothering you two with this stuff. It's a nice night out, no need to tarnish it with crazy revenge scenarios, right?" Serena pulled away from him then, picking up their empty bowls. "I'll be right back, just going to clean these out."

Leliana looked like she wanted to stop her, but Alistair shook his head, motioning for her to let Serena go. "Sometimes, I think she sort of... needs a bit of time to herself," he whispered to the bard. "Going to the river is... basically her secret code for leave me alone while I get myself back in order. She did the same thing when she first told me about her family."

"Have you known her long?" Leliana asked. "You seem like you are very... comfortable with each other."

"Ah, yes, well, that's a complicated question," Alistair replied. He could feel his face flush a bit and tried to keep his voice steady. "I actually knew her briefly when we were young, but then I went to the monastery to train as a templar, and she..."

He paused, thinking of the right words. "She was a teyrn's daughter, so she was busy doing nobley stuff, I imagine. Learning how to run a castle and get married to a wealthy bann or whatever. Anyway... After her family... happened, she was recruited by the Grey Wardens, and we sort of met up, again."

Leliana smiled at him. "It is Fate then, no? That you two should meet up again after so many years?" The bard crossed her legs and leaned back, staring up at the stars. "You know, you two remind me of a story, about that cluster of stars over there. Would you like to hear it?"

"Yes," Alistair said simply. He leaned back on his hands, matching her pose, and listened as Leliana's light accented voice carried across the fire to him.

"A long time ago, there lived a fair maiden named Alindra. She had many suitors, but spurned them all, for she did not love them. One day, Alindra was sitting by the window in her father's castle, singing and dreaming, when her lovely voice caught the attention of a young soldier."

"Entranced by her song, the soldier drew near to Alindra's window," Leliana continued. "As their eyes met, he fell in love with her, and she with him. When Alindra told her father about the man she had chosen, he was furious, for Alindra was highborn, but her love was nothing but a common soldier. To keep them apart, he had Alindra imprisoned in the highest tower in his castle and sent her soldier to the wars."

"He imprisoned his own daughter?" Alistair asked, incredulous. "How could he... I mean, nevermind, this is just a story, right?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But alas, not even a month had passed before news of the soldier's death reached Alindra. Alone in her tower, she wept for her love, and beseeched the gods to deliver her from this cruel world." Leliana paused, her eyes looking deep into the flames of their fire. Alistair thought for a moment she simply looked... terribly lonely. "So earnest was her plea, that the gods themselves were moved. They gathered Alindra into their arms and lifted her high into the heavens, where she became a star."

"They also raised up the soul of Alindra's soldier love, and there he dwells, across the horizon from her." Leliana raised a slender arm and pointed to a collection of dusty stars in the sky. "The bale of stars between them is a river of Alindra's tears, cried for her lost love. They say that when Alindra has cried enough, she will be able to cross the river, to be reunited with her soldier."

"I... that wasn't very happy," Alistair said. He didn't want to think about why this story reminded her of him and Serena. Did she think they were... that they were together? Or if they were to get together eventually, that it was somehow doomed?

"Ah, but it is one of my favorites regardless." Leliana sighed wistfully. "A tale of a love so great and so enduring that it defies death and moves the gods to action..."

"Yes, but... they both died. And before that, they weren't exactly a happy couple."

"I think perhaps you are missing the overall message," Leliana said sagely, a small smile on her face. "But nevertheless, it is a good story."

"What is a good story?" Serena had returned, carrying their clean bowls. She sat back down at the fire near Alistair. He glanced quickly into her face, but she'd already turned away. "You know, Bodahn was just telling me a story about his son. Did you know he can do enchantments? Isn't that bizarre?"

"I thought dwarves couldn't work magic?" Alistair said. "Something about them being too connected to the stone or... I don't know."

"Yes, that's exactly what I thought, too, but Bodahn said he thought maybe he was lyrium-addled. He had him tested by the Circle, even." Serena fingered one of her dagger sheaths longingly. "Bodahn said he could do just about anything we asked. I was thinking about asking Morrigan about what kinds of magic would enhance a weapon."

"Might be helpful to look into, before we reach Redcliffe." Alistair grabbed his pack, pulling out a small map. "I was looking into it earlier, and I think we're somewhere around here, abouts. I recognize these hills, anyway." He traced the line of the Imperial Highway up past Lothering and west to Lake Calenhad. "We should be in Redcliffe by late tomorrow, or maybe early morning on the... what day is today?"

"It is day 27 of this month," Leliana answered. "I liked to keep an accurate calendar at the Chantry, although you can tell the approximate day by the position of certain stars."

"So, that puts us in Redcliffe late on the 28th, or early on the 29th?" Serena stared at the map, her own finger tapping the old paper thoughtfully. "I suppose we ought to turn in for the night then, hmm? Sten said he and Morrigan would take watch tonight, as long as Morrigan could rest in Bodahn's wagon tomorrow to make up for it. I think they like being up at night. Or Morrigan does, anyway."

"Well, I shall leave you both to it, then," Leliana said, picking up her lute and disappearing into her tent.

"Serena?" He put out a hand to stop her from standing. "I... could we talk, really quick?"

"Of course." She scooted closer, giving him her full attention. "You aren't going to try to kiss me again, are you?" She grinned impishly at him.

"I hadn't been planning on it, but..." He grinned back her, a slight fluttering he couldn't control starting in his stomach. "I just... wanted to say thank you. For going to Redcliffe first. The arl has done a lot for me over the years, and I feel like... I owe him, a little, you know? To see if I can help out."

Serena reached over and squeezed his hand. "It'll be fine, Alistair. Let's just focus on getting there, and then we'll deal with whatever is going on." She leaned over and for a moment Alistair thought she was going to kiss_ him_, but she simply put a hand on his cheek and smiled. "It'll be fine."

"You're... right," he breathed. "I'll... see you in the morning then?"

"Unless I'm stolen away in the night by darkspawn," she replied, grinning again. She waved a hand, turned and headed to her own tent. "Sleep well, Alistair," she called.

Alistair sat by the fire for awhile, a nervousness settling in his stomach. He knew he should have told her then, it was the perfect moment, they were alone... and he'd... what? Brought up the arl?

He sighed, rubbing his temples. How did one tell a girl, any girl really, but for him, particularly _this_ girl, that you weren't really just a stable boy, or a Grey Warden, or anything she had come to believe you were, but a _prince_? And a bastard one, at that? Who takes that kind of information well? _He_ certainly hadn't when he was younger. Maker's breath, he didn't take it well _now_, and he was twenty years old!

Alistair sulked, feeling decidedly like a liar, and a bit like a coward.

"Before Redcliffe," he whispered, pulling his pack with him into his own tent. He spared a glance over at where Serena surely lay, waiting for sleep to take her, and he sighed heavily, disappearing into his own tent.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note:** So, this chapter has one of Alistair's more infamous exchanges with the Warden. I was never pleased with how few options you're given in-game to respond to this pretty drastic turn-of-events. You can basically be really nice or _really_ flippant, but what about those of us who just want to freak out a little? Bleh. Anywho. As always, thank you to those of you following and reviewing, it is greatly appreciated!

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><p><span>Chapter 24<span> - _Just The Prince Thing_

Serena walked along beside the Feddic's wagon, enjoying, for the first time in ages, the smell of the salt water from Lake Calenhad, her mabari beside her. The road was thankfully empty save for a few other merchant caravans that Bodahn waved to enthusiastically. Morrigan was asleep in their wagon, with Leliana sitting along the back, lightly strumming her lute.

Sten, despite staying up on watch duty the last two nights, seemed decidedly untired, and walked along with the wagon on the opposite side. He was still dressed in simple, albeit large, peasant garments, and Serena hoped to find some sort of armor that would fit his massive frame at Redcliffe village. If she was lucky, perhaps even a sword, although his stunt with crushing the frozen darkspawn was proof the qunari was just as deadly with his fists as with any weapon.

If they hadn't been on their way to secure men from the arl for army, they could have been a band of traveling minstrels, or wandering adventurers, moving from town to town, enjoying Ferelden's beautiful countryside. The Frostback Mountains laid further ahead, and sight of their snowy peaks made Serena's hands itch with want to draw in her journal. She hoped Redcliffe castle had a study...

Alistair, however, had been strangely subdued all morning. The closer they seemed to get to Redcliffe, the quieter he became. He walked in silence behind Serena, her only way of knowing he was even there was the sound of his scabbard tapping against his splint mail armor. She wracked her brain thinking of something she could have done to upset him, but her mind kept coming back empty.

She heard a quick shuffle of steps, and then he was beside her. "Hi. Um... I know I've been... a bit weird, this morning..."

Serena glanced at him, not sure what to say. At least he _knew_ he was acting strangely.

"Look... could we talk... for a moment?" Alistair gently pulled Serena to the side of the road. She nodded, waving to the wagon.

"We're nearly to Redcliffe, you go on ahead and we'll meet you all at that bridge, alright?" she called to Leliana. The bard nodded, hoping off the wagon and climbing up next to Bodahn at the front. Serena could see her explaining the situation and was thankful for her ability to simply do things without making a fuss about the _why _and rolling her eyes, like Morrigan would have.

Serena turned back to Alistair. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"I... I need to tell you something," Alistair said nervously. "I, uh, should probably have told you earlier."

Oh, boy. Serena breathed deeply, trying to keep control of her face. He wasn't going to talk about _them_, was he? Because as much as she liked him, and she really, _really_ liked him, this was just... not the time. Then another thought came to her. Oh, Maker, what if he's _married_ or something? He's going to tell me he has a wife waiting for him in Redcliffe! Wait, that didn't make any sense... he's said Duncan had taken him right out of the monastery. So then... what was _this_ about?

"Am I... am I going to like this announcement?" Serena asked, her heart sinking fast.

"I don't know. I doubt it. I've never liked it, that's for sure." Alistair's hazel eyes looked into hers and for a moment he looked pained. So this was... _not_ about them? Serena didn't know if she should be relieved or not. The look on his face had her leaning towards not.

"I told you before how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in?"

"More or less, yes..." Serena was completely confused. Where was this going?

"The reason he did that was..." Alistair paused, taking a big breath. "Well... my father was... King Maric. Which made Cailan my... half-brother, I suppose."

"Wait. Wait, wait, wait." Serena held up a hand, shushing him. She started to pace back and forth along the road, trying to sort out what he'd just told her. "So when you said the other day you were just a bastard stable boy... you weren't alluding to your temperament, huh? Your... your _father_ was King Maric? The king of _Ferelden_, was your father?" She knew she was babbling now, but she couldn't help it, her shock was so complete.

"Yes," Alistair said quietly. "I know I should have told you sooner, but-"

"You're a prince. _A prince_." Serena pulled on her braid in frustration, unable to control herself. "You're a prince? Why didn't you... I thought you were going to say... anything else! I thought maybe _Eamon_ was your father and that's why you were... being so weird! Or you had some secret wife in Redcliffe and you were going to tell me off! Oh, Maker, I am so stupid... How did I not see this?"

"A secret what? You thought I was _married_?" Alistair couldn't help the laugh that burst out of him. "You really thought I was _married_ and hiding it from you?"

"You hid being a _prince_!" Serena shouted. "Is it really more of a stretch than you being a... I can't believe this..." She felt faint.

"Serena, please," Alistair said gently, reaching out to her. "I just wanted you to_ know_... It really doesn't matter, does it?"

She turned on Alistair, her hands shaking. "Y-your father was _King Maric_! And _you_ are a _prince_!" Serena was breathing heavy now, completely overcome by emotion. How many times had she thought she was simply embarrassing herself in front of a fellow Grey Warden? Oh no, _this_ particular Grey Warden was the heir to the throne of Ferelden. She felt her face flush anew.

"Oh, Maker..." Serena put her face in her hands and felt tears forming at her eyes. "I am so sorry, your... what do I call you now? Your Highness? Your Majesty? My liege?" She dropped to her knees, ducking her head. "I feel like such a _fool_."

"Serena..." Alistair got down on one knee beside her, his arms closing around her. "I... I would have told you, but... it never really meant anything to me. I was... _inconvenient_, a possible threat to Cailan's rule and so they kept me secret." He held her tightly, willing her to look up at him. "Serena... I've never talked about it to anyone. Just... just you."

She looked up and Alistair was heartbroken to see a tear slip down her face. "Everyone who knew either... resented me for it, or they coddled me... even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it."

"D-duncan knew, too?" Serena whispered, another tear sliding out. "Of c-course he did, that's... that's what you meant, wasn't it? When you said 'I know what this is really about'. Oh, Maker, I am _so_ stupid. How can you even stand to be _near_ me? I must be the dumbest girl in the entire realm."

"Serena, you aren't stupid. I... didn't _want_ you to know, for as long as possible. I thought you would... I just... wanted you to like me... to know me for me, not as some prince." Alistair stroked her hair, wishing he could make her stop shaking. "I'm sorry, but I thought-"

"Thought what? That it'd be funny to see me make a fool of myself?" Serena wiped at her face, her body slowly calming down from the rush of adrenaline. "I... we... I _like_ you, Alistair, and I can't... I can't do that anymore. You're a _prince_."

"So? _You're_ a teyrn's daughter," Alistair insisted, his hand coming to rest on her cheek. His thumb rubbed small circles into her skin, and she wished more than anything she could just melt into his embrace. Why was he making this so _hard? _Didn't he understand what this meant for them? "I like _you_, Serena. A lot. Prince or not, it doesn't mean we can't be... friends."

"Friends," Serena repeated. "Right." The word sounded so hollow to her and she had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at him. As if people who were meant to be _friends_ carried on the way they did. She'd never felt like this about... _anyone_. She pursed her lips, unsure of what to say. "I... so can I still call you Alistair?"

"You can call me anything you like, _my lady_," Alistair said, grinning at her. Serena felt a smile tug at her lips and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Well, _my prince_, we should... probably head back... they'll be wondering about us, I bet." She stood up, straightening herself out. "I don't look like I've been punched in the face, do I?"

Alistair stood and stroked her hair, his hazel eyes scanning her slowly. "No, you look beautiful."

"You are a terrible liar." Serena flapped a hand at her face to cool her skin. "There aren't... any other secrets you've been keeping from me, are there?" she asked carefully, dusting off her leather armor.

"Besides my unholy love of fine cheeses and a minor obsession with my hair?" Alistair ran a hand through his blonde hair, smiling crookedly at her. "Nope, that's it. Just the prince thing."

"Ah, good, as long as it's just that _little_ thing," Serena said, poking him in the ribs. "Let's... not keep secrets anymore, hmm?"

"Yes, no more secrets between us," Alistair said, and she could tell he was serious. "I'll tell you _everything_ from now on, I promise."

They headed down the road into the valley together, moving quickly. The Feddic's wagon was ahead on the bridge that led into the village. Serena could see the huge figure of Sten standing near the wagon, talking to who she could only assume was Morrigan inside. Leliana was speaking with a man she didn't recognize on the bridge, Serena's mabari standing next to her.

"What do you think is going on? Are we being barred from entering the village?"

Alistair held up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. "I... don't know. That man looks to be a part of the town militia... He's armed, at least." They sprinted the rest of the way down the road to the wagon, catching up to Leliana and the militiaman.

"This is Tomas," Leliana said, waving to the auburn haired man blocking the bridge. "He says we shouldn't proceed into Redcliffe."

"Hey, you lot... I was just telling your friend here that the village isn't in any reasonable shape for villagers. Probably be best if you just turned 'round." The man had a quiver of arrows and a large bow strapped to his back. Serena noticed his clothing was torn in a few places.

"We have business with the arl," Serena answered. "We need help to fight the Blight."

The man shifted uncomfortably. "So you... don't know? Has nobody out there heard?"

"We've... heard Arl Eamon is sick, if that's what you mean?

"He could be _dead_, for all we know! Nobody's heard from the castle in days!" Tomas frowned, his reddish hair falling into his eyes. "We're under attack. M-monsters come out of the castle every night and attack us until dawn! Everyone's been fighting... and dying. We've no army to defend us, no arl, and no king to send us help. So many are dead, and those left are terrified they're next."

"What sort of... monsters?" Serena asked. "Darkspawn?"

"No, worse! I... I don't know what they are. Dead things! It's horrid." Serena saw the man shiver in memory. "Maybe... maybe you all could help? I should take you to Bann Teagan. He's all that's holding us together now... Everyone in the village is holed up in the Chantry..."

"Bann Teagan? Arl Eamon's brother? He's here?" Alistair turned to Serena. "He's bann of Rainesfere, it must be really bad if he's left his home to come here. Maybe he knows something about Eamon, too."

"Alright," Serena said, addressing the young militiaman. "Could you take us to Bann Teagan, then?"

Tomas nodded, leading their small caravan across the bridge and into the village. Redcliffe Village itself had obviously seen better days. Scorch marks covered many of the buildings… but from what, Serena had no idea. A pile of bodies burned in a heap near the shore of Lake Calenhad and a few men were standing nearby, tending the flames. A heavyset woman was sweeping what appeared to be bones from the Chantry's porch. Serena shivered involuntarily. What had _happened_ here?

The thick stench of death and decay hung over the tiny lakeside village like an angry cloud, merciless in its unforgiving melancholy. Even the castle in Highever hadn't been as utterly without hope during the attack as this town appeared to be.

A few people were milling about outside the Chantry; their eyes equal parts lost and suspicious of their new faces. Serena could only hope they would be more obliging than the people of Lothering had been to their group.

Behind her, Serena heard Leliana praying under her breath, and she silently joined her in reciting the passage from the Canticle of Trials.

"_Though all before me is shadow,  
><em>_Yet shall the Maker be my guide.  
><em>_I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond.  
><em>_For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light  
><em>_And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost_."


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all of you reviewing and following. Much appreciated!

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><p><span>Chapter 25<span> - _A Village Under Siege_

A middle-aged man in a simple, although well-tailored, nobleman's dress greeted them inside the Chantry. "It's... Tomas, yes? And who are these people with you? They're obviously not simple travelers."

"No, my lord," Tomas answered, bowing slightly to the other man. "They just arrived, and I thought you would want to see them."

"Well done, Tomas. Greetings, friends. My name is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere, brother to the arl." He inclined his head, and Serena bobbed a curtsy to him in return.

Alistair cleared his throat. "I... remember you, Bann Teagan, though the last time we met I was a lot younger... and covered in mud."

"Covered in mud? ...Alistair? It is you, isn't it? You're alive!" The bann moved forward quickly, wrapping Alistair in a hug. "This is wonderful news!"

"Ah, yes, still alive..." Alistair's voice was tight as the older man squeezed him. "Though... not for long if Teyrn Loghain has anything to say about it."

"Indeed... Loghain would have us believe all Grey Wardens died along with my nephew, amongst other things."

"So you don't believe Loghain's lies?" Serena asked hopefully.

"What, that he pulled his men in order to save them? That Cailan risked everything in the name of glory?" The bann snorted in frustration. "Hardly. While Loghain calls the Grey Wardens traitors, murderers of the king, I don't believe it. It is an act of a desperate man."

Teagan turned, focusing on Serena for the first time. "So... you are a Grey Warden, as well? Is it possible we've met? You seem very familiar."

"You may have known my father, Teyrn Cousland," Serena replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Ah, yes, that's it exactly... You were just a young girl when last I saw you. A pleasure to meet you indeed, though I wish it were under better circumstances... You're here to see my brother, I assume?" The bann shifted awkwardly, a frown creasing his handsome features. "Unfortunately, that might be a problem. Eamon is gravely ill. No one has heard from the castle in days. No guards patrol the walls, and no one has responded to my shouts."

"We heard about... things... that were rising up at night," Alistair said uncertainly.

"Yes, the attacks started a few nights ago. Evil... monsters... surged from the castle. We drove them back, but many perished during the assault. Some people call them... the walking dead. Decomposing corpses returning to life with a hunger for human flesh..."

Serena felt her jaw drop. She had been expecting Blighted animals, or even worse, villagers gone mad with the taint, but not... corpses. _Real walking corpses_. She turned to see her look of astonishment reflected on Leliana's face as well. Even Morrigan appeared taken aback by the turn of events.

"They hit again the next night," Teagan continued. "Each night they come, with greater numbers." He sighed, shaking his head sadly. "With Cailan dead and Loghain starting a civil war over the throne, no one responds to my urgent calls for help."

"I have a feeling tonight's assault will be the worst yet. Alistair, I hate to ask, but I desperately need the help of you and your friends."

"It... isn't just up to me," Alistair answered. "Though the Grey Wardens don't stand much chance against Loghain without Arl Eamon..."

"Of course we'll help," Serena added bracingly. "Anyway we can."

"Thank you! Thank you, this... means more to me than you can guess," said the bann, some of the gloom lifting from his countenance.

"Wonderful," Morrigan muttered. "Are you quite sure there aren't any kittens that need rescuing? I saw a few trees were still intact outside… Perhaps we might check them, as well?"

"Morrigan, you knew this wasn't going to be easy when you signed up." Serena crossed her arms over her chest, trying her best shrewish imitation on the witch. "If you'd like to go back to your mother's hut and just wait for the darkspawn to swallow you both up, be my guest. Assuming Flemeth doesn't kick your bottom right back here to help us again."

"I… er... very well," the witch relented. She steeled her shoulders, shaking off Serena's remarks and flashed her a mocking smile. "We shall help the poor villagers with their _corpse problem_."

"Thank you. I knew you'd see it my way eventually." Serena turned back to the bann, her smile tinged with victory.

"Tomas, tell Murdock what transpired here, if you please. Then return to your post."

"Yes, my lord," Tomas replied with a bow. He nodded to Serena and the others briefly, then headed out the Chantry's double doors.

"Now, there's much to do before night falls. I'm thankful you all got here when you did, as we'll at least have a few hours to prepare. I've put two men in charge of the defense outside. Murdock, the village mayor, is just outside the chantry. Ser Perth, one of Eamon's knights, is just up the cliff at the windmill, watching the castle. You may discuss with them the preparations for the coming battle."

"Thank you, my lord. I shall check in with you once everything appears to be in order." Serena curtsied again, and waved to her fellows to follow her out of the Chantry.

Serena took a deep breath. "All right, so this is..."

"Pointless," Sten said. "We should be fighting the Blight, not helping humans run and hide from other dead humans."

"...A _setback_. But thank you for putting it so succinctly, Sten." Serena frowned at the large qunari, the nervous knot in her stomach turning into irritation. "Regardless, I think we should split up into two groups, we'll get things done much quicker that way. Leliana, if you would, go with Morrigan to speak with Ser Perth, and Alistair, Sten and I will speak with this Murdock fellow, and then we'll meet up back here."

Morrigan rolled her eyes but followed Leliana up the wooden causeway that led to the windmill, disappearing beyond a waterfall that flowed back down into the lake. Nearby, a stocky bearded man was barking orders to a trio of militiamen.

"I want those barricades patched and ready in an hour! Everyone will be back in the Chantry by sundown, and we'll need every able-bodied man in the village out here helping to defend this place! Knock on people's doors if you have to, I want them out here!"

Serena tapped the burly man on the shoulder. "Ah, hello, err… ser?"

"Yeah? Oh, you're the Grey Warden, are you?" The man turned, sizing Serena up. "I didn't think they made women Grey Wardens."

"They made an exception for me, since I'm so big and brawny." Serena said sarcastically, sticking out a slender hand to him. She could hear Alistair snort next to her. "I'm Serena, this is Alistair, and Sten. Alistair is another Grey Warden. Bann Teagan sent us to check in with you on the preparations for your... nightly visitors."

"Yes... well, name's Murdock, mayor of what's left of the village- providing we aren't all killed and hauled off to the castle tonight."

"Ah, more friendly sorts," Alistair murmured. "Oh, how I do love this job."

"I think a little bit of faith goes a long way, ser," Serena said patiently.

"I... hope you're right. I've been trying to hold us together, but it isn't easy." The large man sighed, and Serena could see the burden of this nightly siege had weighed heavily on him. "We need what little armor and weapons we got repaired, and quickly, or half of us will be fighting without either."

"Owen's the only blacksmith in town who can do it," Murdock continued. "But the stubborn fool refuses to even talk! If we're to be ready for tonight, we'll need that crotchety bastard's help. There's also some men holed up in that house back there on the lake, refusing to help the militia. Normally, I'm a man who'll let bygones be bygones, but people are dying, and they're all able to help. If you could, err... _persuade_ them... to come out and fight, I'd be right grateful."

"Of course, we'll uh... see what we can do." Serena nodded to the man, then headed towards the small house Murdock had indicated along the wooden ramps. She knocked politely on the door to no answer. Knocking again, much louder this time, resulted in the same. Serena put an ear to the door, listening hard.

"I can hear... shuffling. Someone is definitely inside." Serena grinned at the other two men. "Hello? Could you open your door, please?"

"Would you like me to open the door for you?" Sten offered. Without waiting for an answer, he pounded a giant fist on the door, pushing it off its hinges.

"Ah, wow." Serena peered into the now open house, waving to the three men inside. "Hello!"

"Wonderful. Intruders." A dark haired dwarf eyed her wearily, two human bodyguards standing on either side of him. His voice was gruff and sarcastic. "I hope you've a good reason for breaking and entering into my home."

"Of course! We thought..." Serena glanced around for an excuse. "We thought you were injured. You weren't answering your door, after all. Sten here thought perhaps you'd needed assistance."

The dwarf crossed his massive forearms over his chest. "Yeah? Well, as you can see, we don't."

"Well, I was wondering if you might be interested in helping out the militia." Serena batted her eyelashes at the trio. "I see you all are rather well-armed, and they could certainly use the help."

"Yeah, I bet those idiots _could_ use our help. Doesn't mean we're gonna, though." The dwarf turned, his sword sheath glinting in the light from a lantern. Serena felt Sten shift beside her, his eyes following the man's sword. "What has this damned town ever done for me?"

"Are you a coward?" Sten asked loudly. "A true warrior would never back down from a battle, regardless of what glory came to him because of it."

"Right, and uh, well, you know that saying "one good turn deserves another"? I'm sure they'd be willing to uh, do you a good turn after this, right?" Serena tried reading the dwarf's expression, but he had the same frown as before. Well, at least Sten hadn't outright insulted him... _much_. "And I could easily put in a good word for you with Bann Teagan or the arl?"

"Hmm. You might just be able to pull that off." The dwarf motioned to his two bodyguards. "Fine, I'll throw in with the militia. For now. But you better be out there when the sun goes down. I'm not fighting for a lost cause, you hear me?"

"Of course." Serena curtsied politely. Sometimes she wished her mother hadn't instilled such manners in her… most of these people certainly did _not_ deserve it. "We'll be right there on the front lines, you can count on it."

"Oh yes, battling walking corpses is one of our specialties," Alistair said, rolling his eyes.

"But boss, I don't think we ought to be leaving the house…" one of his bodyguards began. "Those things are—"

"Who pays your wages?" the dwarf barked, interrupting the scared bodyguard. "_I_ do, and _I _say we're going out there. Now shut your mouths and get your things ready. You saw those damn things. They'll bite right through your armor if you let them." The dwarf turned back to Serena and the others. "You lot need something else? I got things to do."

"Oh, no, that's it." Serena waved awkwardly to the trip of men, backing out of the door. "I think everyone is collecting in the chantry yard in an hour before sundown."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll see you then." He twiddled his fingers at her. "Bye now!"

Serena sighed as the door slammed behind them. Okay, one task down, one to go. She headed over to the blacksmith's door and knocked quickly. A crash sounded against the wooden door and Serena jumped back, tripping into Alistair. "What the—"

"Go away, curse you!" A muffled voice shouted from inside. "Leave me in peace! You've already taken everything out of my stores! There's nothing left!"

"Color me suspicious, but I rather think the blacksmith's drunk," Alistair said, helping Serena back up. "Perhaps that's why he won't repair the armor? Can't see straight?"

"Ah, is this Owen, the blacksmith?" Serena called. "I need to speak with you, dear ser."

"Oh? Who is that? What do you want? I've been through enough..."

"Enough bottles of gin, I reckon," Alistair muttered.

Serena smirked, trying to hold back her laugh. "I'd, ah, prefer not to speak through a door... Can I come in?"

"Hmm… all right, all right..." There was a sound of multiple locks being unlatched, and then the door swung open. "All that I ask is that you don't make any trouble."

"Sten, maybe it would be best if you... stayed out here for now."

"Yes, I would prefer this. _That_ man is a waste, and I think the dwarf should be watched when he comes out." The qunari stepped away from the door, crossing his arms over his chest. "I will be over there should you need me."

As Serena and Alistair moved inside, a stocky blonde man with a beard slumped down at a table. His eyes were blurry and unfocused, as if he'd been alternating between crying and drinking for quite a long while.

"So I let you in. You wanted to talk; now we're talking." Owen narrowed his eyes at Serena. "Mind telling me who you are?"

"I'm Serena," she said politely. Now inside, the place smelled like a brewery. Empty bottles were strewn about the floors and tables in a haphazard way, as if the man had long ago stopped caring what his smithy looked like. "We're helping Bann Teagan."

Owen laughed harshly. "Well, ain't that noble of you. Care to join me, as I get besotted then? Or is there something in particular you wanted?"

"Why have you locked yourself in the smithy?" Serena asked.

"My... my girl, Valena, is one of the arlessa's maids, and she's trapped up there in the castle." Owen wiped at his sooty face and sniffed loudly, his despondency was like a blanket around him. "Murdock won't send anyone for her." He turned suddenly, slamming a fist down on the table. "She's been my life since my wife passed on two years ago. Now she's dead, or soon to be!"

"I don't care what happens to me, or the village, or anyone," he said, slumping down in a heap.

Serena exchanged glances with Alistair. "Well, what if we could go in and rescue her?"

"It'd do me a world of good to think maybe someone like you lot could go in and find her... provided any of us live through the night."

Alistair groaned. "I'm really enjoying this go-getter attitude everyone has around here. It used to be such a nice little fishing village…"

"Well, we'll... do our best, Owen," Serena said loudly, hoping the man hadn't heard Alistair's comment.

"No… That's... that's just not good enough. Murdock said the same damned thing and I didn't believe _him_, either." Owen staggered forward quickly, grabbing Serena by the neck just above her armor and shaking her. "I... want a promise! Promise me that you'll look for her! That you'll... bring her back to me if you can."

"P-please..." Serena pried the drunken man's hand from her throat and coughed. "I... promise. I promise you, I'll find her." Alistair put an arm around her, pushing himself between the drunken man and Serena.

"Yeah, I'll... I'll accept that. It's something to hope for, at least." Owen blinked at the pair of Grey Wardens like he didn't realize he'd just almost choked one of them. "I suppose there's no point in me sitting around, is there? Time to re-light the forge... get the smithy going, hey?" He mumbled something incoherent as he wandered over to the large fireplace. "Murdock'll be pleased..."

"T-thank you," Serena said, rubbing her neck. The blacksmith simply nodded and murmured some more, ignoring the both of them as he picked up a large hammer and started beating a shield into shape.

"Uh, right, so, we'll just be going now," Alistair said, steering Serena out of the smith shop. As soon as they were out, he turned her around, staring at her. "Are you _okay_?"

"...Did I… did I just _thank_ him for nearly choking me?" She couldn't stop rubbing the spot where his hands had grabbed her.

"Ah, yes, I believe you did." Alistair pulled her hand from her neck, inspecting it carefully. "I think you're okay. It's uh, pretty red, but there's only a little bit of bruising, at least. Maker's breath, though! I thought his _smell_ was bad... who knew he was a _violent_ drunk?"

"I'm just glad he didn't have that hammer on him..." Serena looked around, searching for Sten. "Now, tell me, how does one lose a nearly 8 foot tall qunari?"

"Good question," Alistair said, although he was still staring at Serena's neck.

"It's not _that_ bad, is it?" she asked, rubbing her neck gently. "You keep, uh, staring."

"Sorry, it's just..." Alistair pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her. "Maybe you should wear this as a scarf, for a bit. I don't want the others to be alarmed." Serena frowned, but took the fabric from him and tied it around her neck, tucking the end into the front of her armor.

"I'll just say my armor was chaffing my neck if they ask." Serena looked around. "Do you think they have a merchant around here? I could use a new set of armor, anyway, I never patched the breastplate."

They wandered around the small series of houses near the docks. Most of the houses appeared abandoned, and when they reached a small shop that said "General Store" in big letters, they found it locked. Serena pulled two pins from her hair and set about the lock, motioning for Alistair to block her from view of the nearby ramp leading back to the center of town.

"Two seconds," she murmured, as the lock clicked. "Here we go." Serena popped the door open and slid inside, closing it quickly behind Alistair. She turned on one of the small lanterns by the door and the room lit up dimly with yellow light. She turned to see Alistair standing close, looking down at her and smiling.

"Has anyone ever told you... how _amazing_ you are?" he said quietly.

"Ah, no, well..." She bit her lip, unsure whether she should goad him or not. "Just you, I suppose." Serena leaned into him, her better judgment telling her _he's a prince_ and she should be doing the exact opposite. "I figure I have to have some moments where I'm _not_ fumbling around in my underwear, right?"

"Actually, I was just thinking how this moment could be significantly improved if you _were_ in your underwear..." Serena smacked him, but he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. "Better this time?"

Serena wrapped her arms around his neck. "You know, I can't really say... I should probably have more to judge it on..." She pulled him back down and kissed him again. "Hmm, nope. Ten year old Alistair was still better."

Alistair grinned, running his hands up her back. "Well, I certainly prefer eighteen year old _you_..." He rested his head in her hair, kissing her head lightly. "You always smell so _good_... How do you manage that, by the way?"

"Magic," she said, popping up on her toes and kissing him lightly on the nose. "It's the only spell I have, I'm afraid. Smelling good." Serena disengaged herself from him and looked about the room. "Now, if I were, say, a snappy new set of armor... where would I hide myself?"

Alistair pulled open a barrel and looked inside. "Ugh, not in here. What _is_ this? Oil?" Serena looked over her shoulder at him. "There are barrels of it..."

"It's probably for lanterns or... wait." Serena turned around, her lips pursed in thought. "We could light it on fire."

"And burn ourselves up? Why in Andraste's name would we want to do that?"

Serena shook her head. "No, we could... throw it on those corpses or whatever they are. Dead people burn, right?"

Alistair considered this, a small grin forming on his face. "They'd burn quite well, I would imagine, though I don't know many dead people." He continued searching through the baskets and pulled out a leather vest. "Oh, here! How about this? We could sort of lace it up the sides or the front, and make it a bit like those... tight things... women wear... under their shirts?"

"Corsets?" Serena came over and tested the vest. "Yes, I could work with this." She grinned at Alistair. "Those tight things women wear under their shirts. You really _have_ lived in a monastery for awhile, haven't you?"

Alistair laughed. "Only half my life, Serena. But alas, I was not cut out for a life of religious contemplation, it would seem." He leaned towards her, grinning broadly. "Too many risqué thoughts."

"You know... Chantry scholars have written some really, er, interesting literature over the years," said Serena, searching through another dusty box. "They're banned, of course. But apparently you wouldn't have been the only brother with a more... salacious way of thinking."

"Believe me, I know. I spent years and years studying in the chantry. It gave me _a lot_ of time to read."

Serena laughed, pulling some more pieces of armor out of a crate. "I can only imagine what goes through your head on occasion, _my prince_." She held up an enormous breastplate. "Do you think this would fit Sten? The man is downright impossible to shop for." Serena pulled out a few more pieces. "There are some other parts in here... it's not the best, but I think we could sort of muddle together something appropriate it for him. He certainly can't fight in those clothes."

"Well, there's a... pretty decent sword here," Alistair said, pulling a huge great sword out. "Not really my style of fighting, but he could definitely wield this beast. Have you seen his arms? HUGE!"

"Oh, have you seen _Morrigan_ looking at his arms?" Serena giggled, gathering up the armor and putting it in an empty sack. "I don't think I've ever seen her blush or anything, but she sure finds Sten interesting. What was it she called him the other day? _Magnificent_?"

"Ha! The mean old witch has a soft spot for qunari men, huh?"

"I think she's attracted to power," Serena said lightly, heaving the sack near the door. "Maybe I'll just bring Sten back and have him change here..."

Alistair watched her for a long moment. "And what about you?"

"Oh, I'll still probably wear this for the battle, actually." Serena picked at the gash in her armor with a finger. "It's not too bad off, is it? I could probably just stick something under here to fill it out..."

"I meant… what are you attracted to? Power?" Alistair's voice was quiet. Serena couldn't really read his expression as he stood, his face just outside the rim of light from the lantern. She imagined he had probably planned it that way.

"I... hadn't really thought about it, I suppose," she answered steadily. She could feel her lips still tingling from their earlier kiss, along with the heat that she always felt just being near him as another Grey Warden. "Maybe someone... steadfast, I think. Dependable, you know? It wouldn't hurt if they were good-looking, either. Maybe blonde." Serena paused, putting a hand softly on Alistair's chest. "I seem to have an affinity for blondes as of late."

Alistair leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. "Really? Anyone I should I be… jealous of?"

"Maybe... there is this _one_ boy..." Serena smiled up at him, trailing a finger along the rim of his armor seductively. "But alas, I think it's hopeless. I'm almost positive he doesn't like me as more than a… companion."

"What… makes you think that?" Alistair asked slowly, watching her move away from him and head toward the door.

Serena quirked an eyebrow at him, her hand poised on the doorknob to leave. "He told me just wants to be _friends_." She smirked at him and slipped quickly out the door, leaving Alistair alone in the storeroom to contemplate his earlier use of words.


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all of you reviewing and following. Much appreciated! This was originally just a realllllly long chapter, but I decided to break it up into two. Hope you enjoy!

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><p><span>Chapter 26<span> - _Dead Things_

The evening came swiftly with everyone jittery about the coming battle. Most of the women, save Serena, Morrigan and Leliana, were staying with Bann Teagan and two of the arl's knights in the Chantry. They had boarded it up from the inside, so if everyone fell outside, hopefully those left inside could hold out until the dawn and flee the village if necessary.

Serena really hoped it did not come to that, though.

She surveyed their preparations carefully. With the help of Leliana and one of Ser Perth's knights, they had built a contraption similar to the one Serena had seen the darkspawn try to use in the Tower of Ishal up on the hill leading to the castle. The knight, Ser Moric, had told them it was the first line of defense, since the monsters usually came across the bridge from the castle directly.

Leliana had set up a line running from the barrels across the path, so when it was tripped, the oil was spread all across the passageway. With a quick fling of a torch, it would be lit up and, Serena hoped, the monsters would almost be burned away by the time they reached the first wave of fighters.

Serena, Alistair, Leliana and Peanut had gone with most of the knights to the top of the hill to be part of that first wave. Morrigan had chose to join the majority of the militiamen down near the Chantry, with Sten standing with the dwarf, who Serena found out was named Dwyn, and his bodyguards right in front of the Chantry doors as the very last line of defense.

Serena stood at the bridge overlooking the village below. "Well, if all goes according to plan, they shouldn't see much action down the hill, right?"

"Because we've seen how well plans tend to go for us," Alistair grumbled from beside her. Serena wondered if he was still sore from her stunt in the storeroom with him earlier. She wanted to feel bad about it, but didn't it serve him right? Just friends, indeed, Serena thought.

Leliana batted him in the shoulder playfully. "Do not be such a sourpuss, Alistair," the redhead chided him. "How often do you get to see dead people up and walking about?"

"And with such healthy appetites! We should ask them to become Grey Wardens," Serena added, pinching his cheek and was relieved when he smiled back at her. She stared down at the large chantry building below longingly. "Although, I wish there was more time until proper sundown... I wanted to pray."

"But you do not need to go to the Chantry to pray," Leliana replied, following Serena's line of sight. She moved around Alistair to grasp Serena's hand. "Here, come with me. I will join you." She towed Serena over to a spot by the large windmill, settling down onto her knees. Serena saw Alistair wander over to them, standing somewhat apart. Peanut stood by him, nosing his hand gently.

"_Maker, my enemies are abundant..._" Leliana began.

Serena closed her eyes, her hands finding Leliana's easily. "_Many are those who rise up against me_," she intoned.

Leliana looked to Alistair, motioning him to join them before she said the next line. "_But my faith sustains me_."

"_I shall not fear the legion_," Serena continued. She heard Alistair's clink of armor as he sat down beside her, and she let go of one of Leliana's hands to grasp his as well.

Alistair's voice was quiet as he finished the passage. "..._Should they set themselves against me_."

"Maker, tonight we join together in a fight against those who have turned against Your children. We humbly ask for Your guidance and Your courage, as we attempt to walk the path of righteousness." Serena felt her body permeate with an inner strength as she spoke the words to the evening sky. Leliana's grip tightened on her hand and she smiled. "And should we perish in the struggle, we ask that you set us by Your side always, in Your kingdom of the Beyond, where we may always bask in Your eternal light."

Serena opened her eyes to find Alistair's head bowed, his hands holding one of hers and Leliana's. Leliana smiled at her, her bright blue eyes misty. "That was incredible, Serena. You... have an uncanny ability to make the Chant sound..."

"Like a real thing," Alistair said, his voice still soft. "I mean, when you speak, it sounds... _real_. You make me feel it in a way I never did when I was living in the monastery." Serena felt herself blush slightly at his kind words.

"I would not take you for someone raised within the Chantry, Alistair," Leliana said.

"Yes, well, it wasn't my choice, I assure you." Alistair stood, offering a hand up to each lady. "But we don't always-"

"My lady?" Ser Moric ran down the hill to them, his armor clanking loudly. He paused at them, catching his breath. "My lady... Ser Lannister... is at... the bridge. He bayed me run here to let you and Ser Perth know, there are noises... coming from the castle. We think the battle shall be upon us soon."

"That poor man cannot stay on the bridge alone, surely he would be the first to perish!" Leliana cried.

"He will fall back, as soon as the first fiend appears, miss," Ser Moric replied, bowing his head to Leliana. "We have always trained together, he shall be at my side in battle, do not worry." The knight peered at the sky, watching the white clouds rolling in over Lake Calenhad.

"I am not sure if anyone has told you all, but we are... so grateful, to have you help us." The dark haired knight sighed. "I suppose I just wanted to say thank you. I must... speak with Ser Perth now." Ser Moric waved briefly at the trio then jogged over to the group of knights, Ser Perth among them.

"Well, at least someone appreciates us," Alistair said. "Here I thought everyone in the village had resorted to that doom-and-gloom point of view." He leaned close to Serena, dropping his voice. "Are you... nervous? I mean... nobody has been very direct with us about what we're facing."

"I don't know what to think, honestly," Serena replied. "They told us they were... walking corpses. Call me old-fashioned, but I happen to think when something is dead, it ought to stay that way."

"What do you think is causing them to... rise?" Leliana asked.

Serena stared out at the lake, where Redcliffe castle could be seen in the moonlight just below the rolling clouds. "I'm not sure... Magic, maybe? Ser Perth mentioned bringing in a mage to help the arl... I ought to ask Morrigan-"

"They're coming! They're coming from the castle!" The knight, Ser Lannister, ran down the hill, jumping over Leliana's tripwire easily. "I saw them nearing the bridge! A whole horde of them, ser!"

"Alright men! This is it! Get to your positions!" The rest of Ser Perth's knights pulled their weapons, joining Serena, Alistair and Leliana. Together, they formed a barrier just past the windmill, blocking the path down into the village.

Serena could see a yellow cloud rise up along the bridge that led out to the island castle. Had it been out on a road, she would have thought it just a group of riders, kicking up the dust as they raced past. Then the cloud moved faster, and the stench of decay traveled to her nose.

"Oh, Maker- do you _smell_ that?" She pulled Alistair's handkerchief from her neck and tied it around the bottom half of her face to shield it from the horrible smell. Beside her, Peanut whined loudly, putting a paw over his nose.

Nocking an arrow into her bow, she saw another knight do the same, the two of them stepping forward from the melee combatants. "Aim for their heads if you can!" one of the knights shouted over the low pitched wail that had begun. "We'll want to knock back the stragglers so we can light the majority at once!"

Suddenly, two figures rushed out from the strange yellow mist, brandishing small swords. Serena could see they were emaciated, their skin hanging off their bones as they ran. She loosened one of her arrows into the corpse, landing it right in the neck as it fell to the ground. Beside her, Ser Tanner shot the other fiend in the face, knocking it backwards into one of its fellows.

More of the creatures appeared out of the mist, screaming and wailing. Serena pulled arrow after arrow, shooting as many as she could, but as one went down, another ghoul was quick to replace it. She noticed even the corpses she and Ser Tanner had shot down were crawling on their bellies towards them.

Ser Perth ran forward, his sword and shield at the ready. "The barrels are down! Tanner, light them up!"

The knight rubbed the tip of one of his arrows against his gauntlet and it erupted into flames. He pulled it back and fired, landing it right in the middle of the path. The oil immediately caught fire, flames licking across the narrow passageway and up the ghouls' arms and legs as they slid through the slick.

But to Serena's utter horror, the oil trap only slowed them down, it did not stop them entirely like it would a living person. Flaming corpses now threw themselves through the fire and out into the open clearing where Serena and the rest stood waiting.

"Maker preserve us..." Serena whispered as she switched to her long daggers.

"Serena, back to back with me! I don't want them flanking you!" Alistair shouted, motioning her over to him with his shield arm. Serena sprinted to where he was, seeing some of the knights already engaged with the flaming corpses.

Alistair swung his sword around, lobbing the head off a nearby skeleton, the jaws of it still snapping as it rolled across the clearing. Behind him, Serena crushed the skull of one of the carcasses with her boot, as it tried to crawl towards a battling knight nearby.

Wave after wave of monsters crashed down from the castle pathway, each clamoring for the blood of the living. Serena dodged and ducked, slashing at the throats or whatever was left of the skeletal corpses intent on trying to devour them all. She felt hands claw at her all over, their bony fingers scratching at any exposed skin. The knights and Alistair bashed the dead relentlessly with their shields, the clanging of meaty flesh hitting the metal made sick pops through the night.

"Lifeless bastards!" Leliana had moved up near the flames, brandishing her own short sword and another long blade she must have taken from one of the dead. Spinning so fast Serena thought she might faint watching her, she saw Leliana decapitate two mostly burned bodies in one fell swoop, her dual swords flipping back to engage another opponent.

Serena heard one knight scream as a skeleton grabbed him, attempting to bite down into his calf, and she raced to his side, driving her dagger deep into the fiend's empty eye socket. It shrieked, dark blood spurting out onto the ground. The knight swung his sword and hacked it right through the neck, cutting off the terrible sound.

"Thank you, my lady," the knight said quickly, rushing to help one of his fellows. Serena peered around, searching for Alistair, but she couldn't see his tall form through the mist that now pervaded the entire clearing.

"Serena!" She heard his call to her left, and she sprinted towards him, landing a running kick into the soft chest of a corpse that had avoided the oil. She knocked it to the ground, running her dagger across the decomposing neck of the creature. Bits of filth and skin clung to her dagger and she felt like gagging. The stench of them made her stomach turn, even with the handkerchief blocking much of it out.

"There's only a few more," Alistair called, thumping another creature to the ground with his shield. His sword slid into its flesh easily, the entire top half of its torso coming free with the blade. "Maker's breath, I'm going to gag!"

Suddenly one of the militiamen appeared, shouting frantically. "Wardens! The monsters are attacking from the lake! Coming right out of the water!" He grabbed his side and Serena could see a gash there, blood starting to flow out over his armor. "They're attacking the barricades! We need help!"

Serena shouted to Ser Perth. "Stay here! In case more come down the path! We need to go to the village!" The knight nodded quickly, motioning for a few of his knights to spread out and hold the line.

"Come on, we have to hurry!" the militiaman pleaded. "The barricades won't hold for long!"

Alistair called to Leliana, waving her over. Peanut followed as they ran down the hill to the village, Serena sprinting after the militiaman. Over the bridge, she could see corpses rising, coming out of the waves of the lake. She could see bursts of magic as Morrigan attempted to hold off the flow of undead with her spells.

"Hurry!" Serena yelled, hurtling over a table working as a barricade and into the range of the Chantry. She pulled one of her throwing knives from her belt and hurled it at an oncoming fiend, hitting it so hard it fell back to the ground. "That's right! Stay back, you foul smelling creeps!"

Alistair and Leliana were immediately beside her, crashing across the barricades and engaging the fiends with their swords. They quickly developed a natural rhythm of Alistair bashing them to the ground with his shield and Serena and Leliana hacking them to bits with a flurry of blades. The militiamen surrounded them, shooting at the corpses as they came into view from the lake and nearby houses. Serena's mabari bounded towards the water, smashing into a crowd of ghouls and ripping into them with his teeth.

"Wardens! Thank the Maker!" Murdock ran forward, bow in hand. "Your mage has done wonders keeping them back, but I think she is tiring and they continue to rise from the lake!"

"We'll hold them off, but I think they are drawn to that fire!" Serena yelled, pointing at the huge burning pyre in the center of the chantry yard.

"We cannot extinguish it, or else we'll be fighting in moonlight alone!" one of the militiamen shouted. "No way am I facing these monsters in complete darkness, too!" Serena shook her head, waving the man off.

"Fine, it stays! Sten!" Serena called to the qunari. "Protect Morrigan, she needs a rest!" She saw the giant man nod and move towards the witch, picking her up in his huge arms and setting her down near the Chantry doors. Morrigan protested, waving both her arms and shouting something up at Sten, but he shook his head firmly, moving away to swing his greatsword into a clump of waterlogged ghouls. Morrigan frowned, slumping against the Chantry doors in defeat as she pulled a potion from her pack and knocked it back.

"Well, at least she listens to _someone_," Serena muttered, turning back to Murdock. "Get your archers on top of those houses and aim for the ones coming out of the lake! That'll help stem the flow, since they're coming for the mass of people here and the fire."

Murdock nodded, motioning for a few of his archers to move. Serena saw them scramble up the side of one of the small wooden houses, firing arrows out onto the sand as creatures rose methodically from the water, their wailing filling the night air.

"Ah, good to see you down in the trenches with us common-folk, Warden." Dwyn the dwarf appeared at her side, his large sword skewering one of the ghastly fiends through the middle. His two bodyguards were working together to bring down another decaying body nearby. "Thought you might stay up on the hill with the pretty boys all night!"

"And miss out on the stench of seawater and death?" Serena called, kicking another corpse back and slamming her dagger into what was left of another's face. "How could I ever resist?" She spun and stomped down hard on the first ghoul as it tried to crawl back towards her. It went on like that for what seemed like hours, the waves of corpses were unrelenting in their pursuit of the living.

Eventually the last of them appeared in the waves, one of the archers taking it down easily. For a moment, all the fighters left standing simply stared at each other, unsure of what to do. Corpses of a few of the living and many of the undead littered the chantry's yard, the smell of blood and death lingering over all of them.

Then a cheer rose up from one of the archers on the house, as he stood up and yelled, pumping his fists in the air, and slowly his call rippled through the yard, catching in everyone as they all shouted and called and cried in happiness. Peanut barked happily, running in circles around Serena.

"They're _gone!_ Sweet Maker, they're all gone!" One of the militiamen collapsed in a heap onto the steps of the Chantry, a long cut on his face bleeding sludgishly. "I never thought... oh, Maker..." Behind him, the Chantry doors were opening and people were starting to make their way outside, reuniting with fathers, husbands, and sons.

Serena glanced around, looking for the one face that mattered most to her. And then she saw him, tired and aching, rolling his shoulders to work out the kinks, his blonde hair a mess with streaks of filth and blood, and she ran. "Alistair!" He turned and saw her, dropping his sword and shield at his sides as he caught her and spun her around happily.

"We did it, Serena! I didn't think we could, but we did it!" He held her tightly as she wrapped him in a hug, her face disappearing into his neck. "And for once you didn't break your arm or something."

Serena laughed. "You sound so disappointed! I thought I would do you a favor, you know. So you didn't have to patch me up again."

"Aw, but I _like_ patching you up," he whispered into her ear. "Are you sure you don't have _any_ cuts? How about bruises?" Serena giggled, about to respond when someone called across the yard.

"The pass is cleared!" Ser Perth and his knights appeared at the bottom of the hill, looking battered and bloody but smiling wanly. "We went all the way to the other side of the bridge, and I think we got them all!" Another cheer went up at the news, as more of the women and children poured out of the Chantry doors, and Bann Teagan joined them. Serena separated from Alistair, curtsying politely to the nobleman.

"Well done, my friends. I daresay, we couldn't have done this tonight without you and your companions, Alistair." Bann Teagan clapped a hand on Alistair's shoulder, smiling broadly. "We'll take everyone that can fit into the Chantry tonight, wounded first, of course, and set about cleaning this place up in the morning." He grinned at Serena as she noticed Leliana, Morrigan and Sten gather around. "I know I speak for the arl when I say you and your friends are welcome guests at Redcliffe, always and forever."

"T-thank you, Bann Teagan," Alistair said, bowing to the man. "This means... a lot... we're just glad we could help." Serena could see his eyes were misty, and she squeezed his hand gently.

"Oh, goody, we can now visit corpse castle whenever we please," Morrigan muttered to Sten. "I know where I shall plan my next vacation."

"Mother Hannah and I have set up cots for the wounded, and many of the women have volunteered to take care of the wounded throughout the night," the bann was saying. "We also collected all the bedding we could for the fighters to sleep, I can show you to the area we set aside for you and your friends right now, if you'd like."

"Thank you, that would be lovely," Serena replied, motioning to the others to follow her. Many of the fighters wandered in after them, stripping their armor off in piles and falling down into bedrolls. Chantry sisters moved through the room, handing them bowls of soup and hot towels for the men to wipe their hands and faces. Serena saw Bodahn and Sandal off to the side, helping one of the wounded.

The bann lead them into a room off to the side, where pews had been stacked to provide some privacy. "In the morning, after we finish cleaning up perhaps, I would like to have a small ceremony, honoring you and your companions, my lady."

"Oh, well... thank you. We certainly appreciate your kindness towards us," Serena replied, taken aback by his words. Bann Teagan waved to them, then turned and disappeared back into the main hall. Serena assumed he was surveying the wounded, and taking note of who had and hadn't made it.

"So, _that_ was exciting," Morrigan said sarcastically, tossing her pack into a corner. "If 'tis no matter to you, I wouldn't mind going to sleep now. 'Tis past midnight after all and I am spent." She pulled out a bedroll and laid it out behind a pew, disappearing from view.

"I feel a bit too anxious to go to bed just yet." Leliana dropped her own pack and sword, laying them gently against a small bookcase. "I think I will check with some of the sisters, see if there is anything I can do."

"I would prefer to sleep with the rest of the fighters," Sten rumbled, heading out of the room. Peanut followed him, his little tall wagging after the huge qunari.

Serena shrugged, pulling off her armor and laying it down in a pile near her pack. She saw Alistair quickly do the same, as they both took towels from one of the Chantry sisters and wiped down their arms and faces. Serena looked at the towel, disgusted with the bits of filth she'd been covered in. For the first time in hours, she felt somewhat clean, and relaxed, with her armor off and no fighting to be done.

She pulled a pack of cards from her bag and shuffled them enticingly at Alistair. "Want to play a quick game? I'm a bit too wound up from all the fighting to go right to sleep."

"Oh, well, uh..." Alistair looked around them. "I actually wanted to talk to you about... the battle, and things." He dropped his voice, leaning close to Serena. "Walk with me outside?" Serena nodded, putting the cards on her bedroll, and followed him back out the door, leaving the Chantry, it's wounded, and the vestiges of the undead battle they had just finished behind them.


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note:** Originally this was part of Chapter 26, but it just got too long. So here it is! The spiritual sister chapter to 26. Hope you enjoy! (Special thanks to those reviewing, your comments crack me up daily.)

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><p><span>Chapter 27<span> - _The Heady Waters of Lake Calenhad_

They stood outside the Chantry doors, the night air fighting a losing battle with the smell of the clash of undead earlier.

"So… here we are… all alone…" Serena murmured. She wondered what he could possibly have to talk about regarding the battle... she had barely had time to process it yet.

"Ah, maybe... not here." Alistair took her hand, leading her beyond the chantry yard and through a series of the small houses sitting on stilts by the lake. He settled on a dock that reached out over the lake, the waters lapping gently below them. "I, uh, thought this might be better, out here where there's no… you know..."

"Rotting corpses?" Serena supplied helpfully. "The disgusting stench of death?" She sat down on the dock, removing her boots so she could dangle her bare legs over the edge. Here, the smell of the lake thankfully overrode the reek from the clearing beyond.

"Yes, that." He settled down next to her, quiet as a mouse without his clanky armor on. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"About the battle?"

"No, not really about the battle. Although, you were magnificent." Alistair grinned at her, touching her braid lightly. "Your hair was whipping around as you kicked those monster's in the face... it was brilliant."

Serena could feel her face flush at his words. "I... that was... nothing! I mean, did you see Leliana spinning those two swords? Pfft, Chantry lay sister, indeed. And then _you_ were just... _crushing_ them. I'd never seen you _move_ so fast..." She leaned against him, smiling at the memory. Without the armor, she could feel his muscles shift just under his tunic.

"Must of been the heat of battle," Alistair replied with a chuckle. "I'm just doing my best to keep up with you all." He sighed, shifting a bit beside her as he fished for something in his pocket. "I... don't really know how to say this..."

Serena felt her stomach start to tie up into knots. She knew she shouldn't have provoked him in the general store earlier about their... _friendship_, and now she was reaping her reward for her foolhardiness. He was finally going to tell her off. Although she wished he would just get on with it, instead of being all sweet and fumbling.

He pulled out a small red rose and handed it to her. "Here, I... do you... know what this is?"

"It's... a rose." Serena brought it to her nose and sniffed. It smelled wonderful; despite it's slightly wilted petals. How long had he been carrying this around? She eyed him, an eyebrow raised curiously. "Unless this is a trick question?"

Alistair laughed. "Yes, absolutely, I'm... trying to trick you. Is it working?" He leaned back on his hands, his face red. "I, uh, just about had you, didn't I?"

"Almost," Serena said, smiling at him. "Where did you...?"

"I picked it when we were in Lothering." He paused, and Serena saw his face was steadily losing it's red. "I remember thinking... 'How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair... and… ugliness?'" Alistair sighed, his voice gentle. "I probably should have left it alone, but I... _couldn't_. The darkspawn would come and their taint would just... destroy it. So, I've had it ever since."

"That's... lovely, Alistair." She sniffed the flower again, taking in its sweet rosy scent before handing it back to him. Alistair looked down at her hand carefully cupping the rose and closed his over it, pushing it back to her.

"I thought that I might... give it to _you_, actually," he said softly. "In a lot of ways... I think the same thing, when I look at you."

"Really?" Serena felt her face flush again as she put the rose in her hair. She could feel her face break into a grin. "I love it... I mean, it's... it's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it." Alistair shifted next to her, his hand sliding next to hers. "I was just thinking, you know... here I am, doing all this complaining and you haven't exactly been having a good time of it yourself." He turned, looking into her eyes. "You've had none of the _good_ experiences of being a Grey Warden since your Joining, not a... word of thanks... or congratulations." He sighed, his eyes rolling to watch her legs dangling over the dock. "It's all been death and fighting and… tragedy."

"I thought... maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and… wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this... darkness." He glanced over at her quickly then ducked his head.

Serena inched her hand over to his, her fingers rubbing circles into his skin. "So... does this mean we're married now? Or do I have to wait for a ring?"

"You won't land me _that_ easily, woman," Alistair said with a laugh. "I know I'm quite the prize, after all... " He turned his hand, so her fingers ran across his palm. "You always smell so sweet... like flowers and I thought... I guess it was just a stupid impulse. I don't know... was it the wrong one?"

"No, I... it wasn't. At all." Serena scooted closer, intertwining her fingers with his. "Thank you, Alistair."

"Well, you know. Flowers and girls and... I'm glad you like it, anyhow," Alistair said, touching her hair lightly. "Now if we could just... move right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage and right to the steamy bits, I'd appreciate it."

"Sounds good..." Serena nuzzled him, kissing him on the cheek. "Off with the tunic, ser," she whispered into his ear.

"Ohhh, ha... ah, bluff called," Alistair said, his face blushing deep red. "I didn't think you'd see through me so easily."

Serena giggled. "You're so cute when you're bashful."

"Really? You might be the _only_ one to ever say that," Alistair replied, his hazel eyes were intently searching hers for... something.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, you're also _completely_ awkward," Serena said, smiling up at him. "I just happen to find it absolutely adorable." She leaned forward and before she could talk herself out of it, kissed him on the lips. She could feel his surprise at first but it was quickly replaced with something else as he wrapped one hand into her hair and kissed her back. His lips were so warm against hers… Maker, everything _about_ him was warm.

"So... I'm going to go ahead and say _that_ was better," Alistair whispered against her lips.

"Mmm. Yes, I definitely think you're getting the hang of this." Serena kissed him again lightly, savoring the taste of him. "You just let me know... any time you want to practice, hmm?" She rested her head on his shoulder, staring out onto the lake. "It's sort of funny, you know..."

Alistair wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "What is?"

"We... we had our first kiss, just there," she said, pointing out into the lake to the island beyond. "And now ten years later... here we are." Serena looked up at Alistair, smiling. "It's just funny how things tend to... work themselves out."

"Leliana says it's Fate."

"Oh?"

"Yes, well, she told me this story the other night... about a noblewoman and how she fell in love with a soldier and then they both died and the gods made them into stars because they were both so sad and dead..." Alistair grinned. "I swear she tells it better than that. But, anyway, she was saying... maybe it _was_ Fate, that we got thrown back together like this."

"Then let's hope Fate deals us a better hand that it did that woman and her soldier." Serena yawned, leaning into Alistair's shoulder. "I don't much care to become a star..."

Alistair laughed. "Yes, well, I don't fancy it, myself. I imagine it'd be rough, being so far away from you." He pulled Serena gently to her feet and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I ought to get you back into the Chantry, my lady, before you fall asleep in my lap."

"Long day... I'm surprised I'm still standing..." Serena murmured, leaning against him as they ambled back along the wooden walkways, their fingers intertwined. "I'm just glad we won this one. Those... those villagers just seemed so... desperate."

"It's certainly been an unpleasant homecoming for me, that's for sure. I remember simple fishing folk, friendly and hard working. It was... _nothing_ like this..." Alistair led her towards the back of the Chantry where Leliana had already fallen asleep in her bedroll. He realized this would be the first night since they'd started where all of them could get a good night's sleep at once.

Serena slid into her bedroll next to Alistair's, smiling gently at him. She took the rose out of her hair, sniffed it one last time, and placed it next to her pillow.

"Goodnight, Alistair," Serena whispered, running a gentle hand down his arm. "Thank you, for... for everything." Beside her, Alistair grinned, slipping into his own bedroll.

"It was my pleasure, my lady."

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><p>The next morning dawned bright and surprisingly cheery for the village of Redcliffe. Serena and her companions got ready quickly, and Serena was delighted to see how much her friends' countenances had perked up after a solid night's sleep. Even Morrigan appeared to have more spring in her step, although with more spring also came more complaining.<p>

"Ah, Warden, if I may trouble you..."

Serena rolled her eyes to the ceiling, praying silently to the Maker for patience before turning to regard the witch. "Morrigan, of course. What is it?"

"Normally, I would not... bother myself with such matters." Morrigan looked around, her golden eyes eerily nervous. "But as I'm sure you've noticed, I've... spent some time speaking with the qunari. He mentioned something to me yesterday I think you should know."

"Sten? What did he say?"

"Has he told you the story of why he is in Ferelden, Warden?"

Serena shook her head. "I... could only get a little out of him." She lowered her voice to imitate the deep rumble of the qunari's. "_I like swords, I follow orders. What else is there to know?_' Pfft. He thinks I'm naive, I think, because of my age." She sighed. "But from what I could tell, he came here with some other qunari, right? They were looking for evidence of the Blight."

"'Tis true. They were camped by Lake Calenhad, and were ambushed by darkspawn. He lost his sword in the process, and when that family found him, he... lost control and massacred them." Morrigan paused, eyeing Serena warily. "The qunari value their weapons above all else, it would seem. Losing that sword was perhaps what losing an arm would feel like to either of us."

"I... all right. What does this have to do with anything, Morrigan?"

"He has found his sword," Morrigan said simply. "It is here, in Redcliffe, of all places. That dwarf wields it."

"Dwyn?" Serena frowned, thinking hard. Yesterday, something had caught Sten's eye in that house. Had he recognized the sword then? Is that where he had disappeared to when she and Alistair had emerged from the smithy? Had he gone to seek out Dwyn? "Well, then... we'll have to get it back, won't we?"

"Indeed. I am curious, though, how do you suppose we do that?"

"Well, the man's a dwarf, and beyond that, a merchant." Serena raised an eyebrow at the witch. "Have you ever met a merchant that didn't like to trade?" She looked around. "Where is Sten?"

"Outside, helping clear bodies," Morrigan replied. Serena nodded, turning and heading out the Chantry's double doors. Outside there were many people milling about, some helping load bodies onto a burning pyre near the lake, others were collecting weapons and other equipment that had fallen off the ghouls. She saw Sten helping a group of men clear a section of beach by the lake of bodies. Dwyn was standing at a distance with his two ever-present bodyguards, watching the others work.

"Well, I didn't take him for much of a joiner, anyhow," Serena murmured as she headed for the dwarf, Morrigan at her side.

"Hello again, Dwyn," she said brightly, waving. "So good to see you."

The dwarf looked her up and down, a smirk on his face. She saw his eyes then flip to Morrigan, stopping at her chest. "What can I do for you, Warden?"

Serena smiled, hoping she and Morrigan were giving off the appropriate vibes to get what they wanted. She remember Morrigan's outfit and realized that at least one of them was giving off the correct vibes, at least. "I was curious... about your sword, actually. Where did you get it?"

"Ah, this beauty." Dwyn patted the sword fondly. "I haven't had it long, bought it off a man up near Orzammar. Why?"

"It just looks like a sword that belonged to my large friend there." Serena pointed to the unmistakable form of Sten, currently heaving three men at once onto the pyre. "He recently lost his sword, and I was hoping I could... purchase it off you."

Dwyn barked a laugh. "Ha! Not a chance, girl. This sword is one-of-a-kind, and the best I've ever had, surely." He eyed her again, his eyes vigilant. "Besides, what makes you think it's your, ah, friends sword?"

Morrigan leaned towards the dwarf, her yellow eyes intense. "You see a lot of qunari-made swords, then?"

"Ah, you've... a point there." The dwarf glanced at his two bodyguards, a secret code of looks transferring between them. "We've seen you in action, Warden, and your mage friend here is a force to be reckoned with alone. Perhaps we could... strike a deal."

Morrigan flashed him a predatory grin. "What did you have in mind?"

"2 sovereigns and… a kiss, from both of you," Dwyn replied, grinning rakishly. "Then the qunari gets his precious sword back."

Oh, Maker, Serena thought. Of course this degenerate wanted something like that. She glanced around, looking for Alistair, hoping he was still in the Chantry... or anywhere else he wouldn't see them. She watched as Morrigan quickly leaned forward and kissed the dwarf square on the mouth.

"Don't expect such kindness from me, Dwyn," Serena said, leaning down to kiss him chastely on the cheek. She drew a few silvers from their joint coin purse and held them out in her open palm. "The sword now, if you please."

"6 silvers? I'm almost certain I said _gold_. And that wasn't even really a kiss, Warden-" Dwyn began.

"And _the qunari_, as you so described him, massacred an entire family with his bare hands when he realized his sword was missing. And he knows _you_ have it, now." Serena narrowed her eyes at the dwarf. "I'd hate for him to... rip your arms off." She turned to Morrigan, smirking. "Don't people need their arms? Both of them?"

"Alright, alright!" Dwyn unbuckled the sheath of the great sword and shoved it into Serena's arms. "Have it your way, Warden. By the Stone..." The dwarf threw up his arms and turned, disappearing into the maze of small houses behind them. His two lackeys eyed Serena, who was still fumbling with the enormous sword, before following Dwyn.

"That went well, I think," Morrigan said dryly.

"Well, if he wouldn't respond to simple logic, I had to resort to threats." Serena got a grip on the huge sword and hefted it over her shoulder, weaving back through the chantry yard towards the qunari. She didn't know how the dwarf had managed it, honestly. The sword was nearly as long as she. "Sten better appreciate this... this stupid thing weighs a ton."

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><p>"What is this?" The enormous qunari looked down at the two women, his face set in a hard grimace.<p>

Serena held up the huge great sword to him. "It's... your sword." She exchanged uneasy glances with Morrigan. "Isn't it?"

"It is." He carefully took it from Serena and held it in his hands. "Strange, I... I had almost forgotten what it felt like in my hand. Asala." Serena felt self-conscious, standing there as Sten appeared to marvel over the blade. "How did you get it? I did not think that dwarf would part with it so easily."

"We struck up a bargain he couldn't refuse," Serena replied. "We also might have mentioned your, err, penchant for ripping people to pieces with your bare hands."

"This is true." Sten attached the sword sheath to his back and pulled the blade, marveling over it once again as the sword reflected in the sun. A smile, or at least, what passed for a smile on the gigantic man, appeared just briefly on his face. "How did you know this was mine?"

"Ah, well, I think you have Morrigan to thank for that. She's the brains behind this particular operation." Serena pushed lightly on the witch's shoulder, moving her towards the big man. "I have to go check in with Bann Teagan, see you." With an awkward wave, she turned and walked quickly away, a huge grin on her face.


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all those following and reviewing! I love reading your comments, and a special thank you to those of you leaving constructive criticism. I've started re-reading my chapters before upload 4 times to cut down on errors and cut-offs! I'm sure there's still some stuff that gets through (sigh), but I do appreciate it all, just the same! Anyway, does anyone else hear Isolde's voice from the game when she says Tee-gaan and laugh? It just cracks me up.

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><p><span>Chapter 28 <span>– _Malificarium Regrets_

The ceremony was short and sweet, thankfully, with the bann simply expressing the town's collective gratitude to Serena and her companions for their efforts the night before. They said a prayer to the Maker for the fallen, and despite the fact that they had lost many; Serena had seen the true grit of the small village shine through. The people had dared to hope once again, and it warmed her heart to know that they had had a hand in helping them recover a little of the faith they had lost in the nights before.

After the service was done, the townspeople meandered away, going back to their tasks, and Serena saw some were even helping people move back into their houses along the lake. She caught herself staring as men and women moved dutifully back and forth from the Chantry, slowly drifting back into their previous roles.

"Serena? Did you hear that?" Alistair tapped her shoulder gently, his eyes full of apprehension. "Bann Teagan just said he wants us to meet him up at the mill. He wants to attempt to enter the castle and find the arl, since all those... things... are gone."

"Oh, right, yes." Serena nodded, shaking herself out of her reverie. "I was just watching the... well, nevermind." She smiled quickly, following him and the others up the hill to where the old windmill stood. The castle beyond on the island was still, with no flags waving, no men guarding the walls, no wagons or merchants coming to and fro... nothing. Serena couldn't help but shiver, the eeriness of it overwhelming her, even in the bright sunshine.

The bann raised a hand to the group, waving them over. "Ah, how do I begin? I know that you all just risked your lives to help us, but I fear I must ask for your help again..." Bann Teagan sighed, and Serena could feel concern for those within the castle emanate off him in waves.

"I asked you all up here because within this mill is a secret passageway into the castle, accessible only to my family by way of this ring." The bann held out a ring to Serena, flipping it in her hand to reveal a small raised square that could be inserted into a lock. "If you turn it like this, the trap door to the cellar will open-" Teagan paused, his eyes focusing on something over Serena's shoulder. "Maker's breath!"

"Teagan! Thank the Maker you yet live!" A woman Serena vaguely recognized ran up to them from the hill, a heavily armored guardsman right behind her.

"Isolde? You're... you're alive!" Teagan wrapped the woman in a quick hug. "How did you...? What has happened?"

The arlessa shook her head, her usually neat bun coming undone and splaying her reddish locks messily over her shoulders. "I... I don't have much time to explain. I slipped away from the castle as soon as I saw the battle was over, and I must... must return quickly." She paused, dropping her head sheepishly. "And I... need you to return with me, Teagan. Alone."

Serena exchanged worried looks with Alistair. "Ah, why don't we... all go to the castle then?"

"What?" The arlessa turned to Serena and her companions, as if she just realized they were there. "I... who is this woman, Teagan?"

Beside her, Alistair sighed heavily. "You remember _me_, Lady Isolde, don't you?"

The woman eyed him suspiciously, her mouth pursing into a frown. "...Alistair? Of all the... why are _you_ here?"

"They are Grey Wardens, Isolde," Teagan said gently. "I owe them and their companions here my life."

"Pardon me, I..." The woman shrugged her small shoulders, as if her rudeness was beyond her own control. "I would exchange pleasantries, but... considering the circumstances..."

"Please, Lady Isolde... we had no idea anyone was even alive within the castle," Alistair said, holding up a hand to the woman. Serena saw his normally carefree expression was replaced with one of unease. "We must have some answers!"

"I know you need more of an explanation, but I... don't know what is safe to tell." The arlessa moved nearer to Bann Teagan, nearly hanging on him in despair. "Teagan, there is... a terrible _evil_ within the castle. The dead waken and hunt the living! The mage responsible was caught, but... still it continues!"

"Mage?" Morrigan muttered from behind Serena. "What is it always a mage's fault?"

"Perhaps because mages are the only ones who can raise the dead?" Leliana whispered back.

"I think... I think Connor is going mad, as well," Isolde cried. "We have survived but he won't flee the castle. He has seen so much death!" The woman pulled at her hair, shaking her head. She looked like she had gone mad herself. "You must help him, Teagan! You are his uncle. You could reason with him. I do not know what else to do!"

"What about Arl Eamon?" Serena said quickly. "Is he still alive?"

"He is. He is... being kept alive so far, thank the Maker."

The bann turned to Isolde, his eyes narrowed. "What do you mean... kept alive? Kept alive how?"

"It is... something the mage unleashed! So far it allows Eamon, Connor, and myself to live..."

"How very convenient," Morrigan drawled.

"The others... were not so fortunate," Isolde continued. "It's killed so many, and turned their bodies into walking nightmares! Once it was done with the castle, it struck the village! It wants us to live, but I do not know why." The arlessa dropped her head, whimpering softly. "It allowed me to come for you, Teagan, because I begged... because I... I said Connor needed help."

Morrigan stepped forward, her yellow eyes focused intently on the arlessa. "And this evil... what do you suppose it is? A demon?"

"I... I do not know," Isolde admitted, her eyes flipping from Morrigan to each of the others. "Oh, Maker's mercy... do you think...? Could it truly be a demon?" She turned back to the bann, her hands a flurry of activity. "I can't let it hurt my Connor! You must come back with me, Teagan! Please!"

"And what about this mage?" Serena asked. "Where he is now?"

"Down in the dungeons. He was... one of the castle staff... but we discovered he was poisoning Eamon... that is why he fell ill." Isolde wiped at her eyes.

"Eamon was poisoned?" Teagan exclaimed.

Isolde shrugged, as if this news was the least of her worries. "He... he claims an agent of Teyrn Loghain's hired him... He may be lying, however, I cannot say."

"Loghain sent men after Serena and I in Lothering, Bann Teagan," Alistair said. "This feels like his doing, as well."

"Teagan, I do not have much time! What if it thinks I am betraying it? It could kill Connor!" Isolde pulled at Teagan's hand, her voice cracking. "Please come back with me... must I _beg_?"

"The king is dead, and we need my brother now more than ever. I will return to the castle with you, Isolde." Teagan turned to Serena, his eyes suddenly intense. "My lady, if you could... take that ring I gave you back to where it belongs, and I will call for you in the castle as soon as I can. I appreciate the help you have given us so far, although I wish I did not have to do this alone."

"I... of course, Bann Teagan," Serena answered, nodding. She could see Isolde was watching them intently, and Serena hoped she was conveying to him that she understood what he was telling her. "We hope to see you again _very_ soon. Maker protect you... both."

"Thank you, my lady. Our village was truly blessed when the Maker sent you all to us." The bann waved a hand to them and followed the arlessa and her guard up the hill, disappearing over the bridge.

"We aren't really going to wait for him to call for us, are we?" Alistair said suddenly.

"No, he gave Serena that ring to use in the mill. Right?" Leliana replied.

"I... believe that was his intent, yes." She held out the little ring in her hand. "He said it opens a trapdoor in the mill." Serena paused, a plan forming slowly in her mind. "Isolde said there were more of the dead inside. I'm not going to ask all of you to face that again if you don't want to." She looked to each of her companions, silently questioning them.

"Well, of course I'm going if you're going," Alistair said quickly. "I owe Eamon that much, and I'm not going to just let you wander in there _alone_."

"Nor I," Leliana added. Beside her, Peanut let out a short bark.

"My sword is once again in my hand. I shall use it," Sten rumbled.

Morrigan leaned on her staff, her golden eyes aloof. "I am... intrigued by this mage. That woman was obviously lying about a few things, and I would like to see what is going on for myself."

"Agreed," Serena replied. "She played it pretty well, but there's definitely a lot of somethings she was keeping from us, _and_ Teagan. I just hope she doesn't lead him into danger because of it. Let's go."

They entered the windmill through a small door at the front. Serena peered about, the floors were covered in straw and boxes, and the room was mostly taken up with the massive stonework center holding the mill's blades in place. However, Leliana quickly found the trapdoor the bann had mentioned pressed into the floor near the back.

"It looks like the ring goes in there," she said, pointing. "Do you think this leads to a cellar?"

"It must go under the lake, I'd imagine," Serena replied, opening the large wooden door in the floor with Alistair's help. A rush of cool air blew out at them, and Serena recognized the salty smell.

"There's no ladder," Serena remarked. "So it looks like we won't be exiting this way easily." She grabbed Alistair's hand and he lowered her into the hole. She landed softly, with Leliana coming down next. With a loud clink of metal, Alistair dropped to the floor.

"Hold this, will you?" Morrigan called, handing her glowing staff down to Serena. The witch held onto the side of the trap door and dropped down lightly to the ground like a cat. Peanut looked down into the hole after her and whined piteously.

Serena handed Morrigan back her staff and looked up out of the hole. "I've seen you take down two darkspawn at once and you're afraid to jump into a dark hole?" She clapped her hands on her knees. "Would you like me to stand here and catch you?"

"I will take him," Sten said, lifting Serena's mabari easily in his arms and jumping down into the passageway below. He set Peanut back down as if the dog weighed nothing and shrugged. "Lead the way."

Serena moved through the passageway slowly, Morrigan at her side with her glowing staff. The path was made of uneven stones, with bits of wooden planks jutting out of the walls at strange angles. Cobwebs covered the ceilings, and Serena took out her bow to bat at them as they passed. The passageway seemed to be going... up... the further they walked.

Soon they came upon a large room, with a wooden door on the other side. Serena wiped the webbing from her bow and nocked an arrow into it tentatively. She could hear Alistair pull his blade as she kicked the door open.

"Help! Help me!" called a man's voice. "Somebody! Please!" Serena saw a group of ghouls charging at what appeared to be a small jail cell, their mangled bodies pressing against the bars in an effort to get at the man inside.

"Well, this should be easy enough." Serena loosened one of her arrows into the clump of writhing flesh monsters, hoping to get their attention.

The dead body turned to her group and dropped it's jaw, roaring and preparing to charge them. Beside her, Alistair tapped his shield with his sword menacingly. "You want a go? Have at it then, beasties!"

The ghoul bellowed again and ran at them, his two fellows right on his tail. Alistair caught them with his shield, knocking them back, as Morrigan waved her hand and the group froze right before them.

"That will not hold them for long," the witch said, eyeing the monsters as if she were choosing what color dress to wear to a ball. "Perhaps it would be best to crush them." Sten stepped forward then and with a thrust of his sword, brought it down across the frozen ghouls, smashing them into small icy pieces.

"Hello? Who's there? Is there anyone _alive_ out there?" A dark haired young man leaned forward, his arms grasping the bars of the cell. Serena noticed that his robes bared the symbol of the Circle of Magi and he was splattered with blood. Bits of food scraps littered the floor. "Wait... you... don't look like the arlessa's guards. Are you from outside the castle?"

"Are you the mage that Lady Isolde mentioned?"

"Y-you've spoken to her?" The man dropped his head, his dirty hair falling into his eyes. His face had several days worth of beard growth on it, and Serena wondered how long he'd been held down here. "Then you... know what I did."

"She said you poisoned the arl," Serena said, watching the mage as he flopped onto a small bench within his cell.

"I'm not proud of my deed. Poisoning Arl Eamon was what I was hired to do. Lady Isolde had no idea when she took me in to tutor her son, of course."

"Wait. Tutor her son?" Serena exchanged uneasy glances with Alistair. "In magic?"

"Yes... he had started to show... signs. Lady Isolde hired me in secret to teach her son to... control his magic." The mage sighed. "The arl had no idea, and she did not want the boy taken to the Circle. He would lose any titles he had, and as an escaped apostate... of course I would not turn him in. To her, it seemed like the perfect solution."

"What about the walking corpses?" Leliana asked. "Did you do that, too?"

"No!" The mage stood, his arms gripping the bars again. "I know it looks suspicious, but I'm not responsible for the creatures and the killings in the castle! I was already imprisoned when all that began... You saw them! If I were controlling them, why would I have them attack me?"

"At first, Lady Isolde came here with her guardsmen... demanding that I reverse what I'd done. I thought she meant my poisoning of the arl... That's the first I heard about the... the corpses. She thought I'd summoned a demon to torment her family and destroy Redcliffe." He wiped at the blood on his face, and Serena was repulsed to see large burn marks on his wrists as his sleeves fell down.

"She... had me tortured," the mage said, following Serena's eyes to his arms. "There was nothing I could do or say that would appease her. So they... left me to rot."

"Or be eaten by ghouls, it would appear," Morrigan replied, scowling.

"I'm sorry you were tortured, not that it would make you feel any better, I suppose," Serena said. "Why did you poison the arl?"

"I was instructed to by Teyrn Loghain," the mage responded. "I was told that Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden, and that if I dealt with him... Loghain would settle matters with the Circle. You see... I'm a maleficar..."

"_A_ _blood mage_?" Alistair exclaimed. "I… uh… well, that isn't good."

"Oh, Alistair, I believe your inner templar is showing a little bit, just around the edge there," Morrigan drawled from Serena's side.

"I was in hiding when I was caught, but instead of killing me, Loghain... made me an offer. The templar that found me was furious. He said I belonged in the Circle if I wasn't to be killed outright. I thought I was lucky, with the Teyrn finding me..." The mage dropped his head. "But he's abandoned me here, hasn't he? Everything's fallen apart, and _I'm_ responsible!" He stood up, his burns showing dark against his pale skin. Had she used a hot poker on his arms? "I have to make it right somehow, I have to!"

Serena tapped her foot, thinking hard. "So if _you_ didn't summon the corpses... did Connor?"

"I would be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind, dear lady," the mage replied. "Connor has little knowledge of magic, but he may have done something to tear open the Veil. With the Veil to the Fade torn, spirits and demons could infiltrate the castle. Powerful ones could kill and create those... walking corpses."

"Fantastic," Serena muttered. "Walking dead weren't enough, now they're controlled by demons who've escaped from the Fade... Who may or may not have been conjured by a child." She threw up her hands in exasperation. "Fantastic."

"I... I didn't teach him much, I mean, I didn't really have a chance to..."

"What's your name?" Serena snapped, interrupting the mage.

"J-Jowan," the mage answered timidly.

"Well, Jowan, get up. _You_ started this whole mess, and _you_ are going to help us figure it out." Serena pulled a pin from her hair and kneeled at the lock. With a soft click, she opened the cell door. "Come on. _Don't_ try anything."

"What?" Alistair put his hand forward, shutting the door again. "Serena, you can't honestly want him to come with us, he's a _blood mage_!"

"He wishes to redeem himself, Alistair," Leliana said quietly. "Doesn't everyone deserve that chance?"

"Unless you know a lot about demons, we have to do this. We need his help. Connor could be _possessed_." Serena turned to the mage in the cell, her eyes wide and imploring. "You want to help us, don't you? You want to... atone... for what you've done?"

"I do... but... I'm no fighter..."

"Beggars can't be choosers, Jowan. Either you're coming with us, or you're staying in there." Serena pulled Alistair's gloved hand from the door and she was thankful to feel him relent to her touch. "I'm not going to just let you run loose around the castle."

"I... alright. I'll come with you." Jowan sighed, pushing the cell door open slowly. He glanced quickly at Alistair before dropping his eyes.

"Right, so... Jowan, this is everybody." Serena waved a hand at her companions, her tone utterly flippant. "Everybody, this is our new friend Jowan the blood mage. I imagine we're going to be running into a lot more of these... dead things, and we have no idea where Teagan and Isolde are."

"Actually, they might be in the main hall, but that's at least..." Alistair paused, his face screwing up in concentration. "That's one floor up, and 4 rooms over. We're in the dungeons now."

"Oh, I'd completely forgotten, you used to live here." Serena put a hand on his arm, grateful for someone who knew where they were in the castle. "Alright, so we'll head for the main hall. We're a rather large group, so let's try not to get in each others way. Jowan, you're with me. I know you don't have a staff, but you can still cast, right?"

"Yes, I... I can chant spells that... affect a certain area, at least. What would you have me do?"

"Rahim did that Heroic Offense spell that was pretty helpful," Alistair said. "Do you know that?"

"Senior Enchanter Rahim?" Jowan said.

"Yes... he was... he served at Ostagar with Alistair and I," Serena said quietly, the fight suddenly rushing out of her. Morrigan had mentioned to her on their way to Lothering that her mother had found his body among the wreckage in the Tower of Ishal. Serena had carried around the guilt of his death for two full days afterwards before Alistair had spoken with her about it one night in her tent. "He was a good man."

Jowan grimaced; the news did not seem to surprise him much. "I heard many of us were lost at Ostagar," he said solemnly. "I... do know the spell you speak of, however. There's a defensive counterpart as well that I can cast."

"Excellent, well, let's get going then," Serena said. "Alistair, if you wouldn't mind leading the way?" The former templar nodded to her, his hazel eyes lingering uneasily for a moment on the new mage in their midst before they exited the dungeons.


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all of you reviewing and following!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 29<span> - _A Child Gone Mad_

They moved through the castle with relative ease, cutting down corpses as a unit. Jowan, true to his word, stood near Morrigan at the back of the group and chanted, allowing the main fighters, Sten and Alistair, to clear the way for the rest. The corpses, which were really more skeletons now than recognizable as people, came at them in nearly every room they passed through.

They soon reached a large dining hall, where a new type of foe surrounded them.

"Demons!" Morrigan hissed, swinging her staff in a wide arc. Ice shot out the end, coating the fiery wraiths with frost. Serena watched in horror as they continued towards their group, their progress only hindered somewhat by the witch's spell.

"They are susceptible to cold!" Jowan shouted over their angry wailing and growling. He ran to the far end of the room where no demons stood and began chanting. Immediately Serena felt her daggers go cold in her hand and she rushed the nearest shade, stabbing deep into what she could only hope was its head. The demon screamed and grabbed at her as it dissolved into a flaming puddle at her feet.

"Maker's breath!" Serena cried, stumbling backwards in surprise. "It melted!" Jowan rushed to her side, helping her up. Around her, the others took down the other shades, knocking them to the ground with their icy weapons.

"It's a spell to enchant weapons with cold," the dark haired mage explained. "I ran into one of them in my Harrowing... they're called rage demons... I enchanted my staff with cold and beat it to death in the Fade."

Serena stared at the mage, her eyes wide. "I... _wow_. Okay." She sheathed her daggers at her belt and put her hands on her knees. "I am not sure I was exactly prepared for that."

"Serena, are you all right?" Alistair came up to her, putting a hand on her back as she leaned over.

"I just feel... _weak_, all of a sudden..." Serena coughed, her breathing coming in rasps. "Do... any of you feel it? I mean... usually there's the... headaches...but... _oh_..." She swayed on her feet and Alistair moved quickly to steady her.

"They can cast," Jowan said quietly. "Not the way we can, but they have spells and things. You were... very close to them." He turned to Alistair, his eyes nervous. "You... used to be a templar, right? You can..."

"Right, right! I should have..." Alistair performed a complicated series of motions and a rush of air expelled from him in every direction. "I probably should have mentioned that, actually."

Serena leaned against the wall, her body suddenly responding to her again. "What do you mean? What did you just do?"

"I can dispel magical effects. I mean, not as well as a full templar can, or as often...since I don't take lyrium..." Alistair shrugged. "But it's part of the training. It's how we... combat mages, mostly. They can't fight back if they can't cast spells."

"And your swords, don't forget those," Jowan added.

Serena grinned at Alistair, pushing herself off the wall. "You have magical swords, too?"

"No, they're just very sharp and pointy," Jowan said, smiling for the first time. Serena rolled her eyes at the mage, shaking her head.

She found herself surprised that the effects of the demon's spell were completely gone. She would have to remember Alistair could do that. "I guess we should-"

"There are more out in the hallway," Sten called loudly from the back door of the dining hall. Beside him, Peanut howled, long and low.

"...Kill those things, too," Serena finished, pulling her daggers again and sprinting to follow the qunari into the hallway. Armored corpses rushed at them from the open doorways, brandishing rusted weapons not unlike the darkspawn as Serena's group filled the hall to meet them.

Together, they were like a whirlwind of blades- Sten's great sword sliced through the ghouls coming in from one side while Serena ripped through the rest on the other. Alistair ran out a side door and corralled the rest of the dead into a funnel with his shield, while Leliana joined her in cutting them down one by one. Morrigan assisted Sten from the doorway, freezing more ghouls with an icy spell, and before long, an eerie quiet overtook the hall once again.

"Well, that was exciting," Alistair said, looking down at the skeletal hand inching it's way towards his leg. He scowled, crunching the bones beneath his boot. "These things just don't know when to give up."

"I think even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't summon anything like this," Jowan murmured, staring at the corpse parts all over the floor. "Not that I'd want to, of course!"

"Of course," Serena agreed. She headed down the hallway, stepping lightly over the rapidly decaying bodies. "You'd only summon the nice ghoulies, hmm? Maybe a Spirit of Common Sense? We could actually _use_ one of those."

Serena popped her head in the doors the dead had come out of, looking around. All of them were wrecked, but empty, until she reached the end of the hall. Pulling out her hairpin, she knelt and picked the lock, pushing the door in.

Inside, a young woman screamed at her, falling back into a stack of crates. "Please! Don't hurt me!"

"I wasn't going to!" Serena held up her hands, showing she was unarmed. Alistair peeked his head in the door and she screamed again, the shrill sound making Serena's ears hurt. "Please, calm down. We're not going to hurt you!"

Alistair exchanged worried glances with Serena. "Sweet Maker, she has a set of lungs on her, doesn't she?"

The blonde picked herself up, her eyes wide and frightened. "I'm... I'm sorry! I just..." She took in Serena and Alistair, her hands clutching one of the crates tightly. "Those monsters are everywhere!"

"Well, they were," Serena answered, holding out a hand to the woman to help her up. "What's your name?"

"I'm... Valena, one of the arlessa's maids." The woman twisted an small apron in her hands. "Is she... all right? The arlessa? I haven't heard anything but the wailing from those... those _things_ for days. I've stayed locked in here..." Serena noticed the crates had been broken into and bits of foodstuffs littered the floor.

Serena pursed her lips in thought. "You said your name is Valena? Are you Owen's daughter?"

"Yes! He's my father! Is he...? Is he alive?"

"Oh yeah, he's fine," Alistair answered, his tone reflecting Serena's mood perfectly. "Bit drunk... and very..." He made a hand gesture like he was choking someone. "But what are you going to do, you know?"

Valena stared at the two of them, her eyes filling with tears. "I... want to go back to the village. Is there a way out of here?"

Serena turned to Alistair, her eyes downcast. "Well, I don't think we should just send her out there on her own..."

"I'll accompany her to the mill," Leliana volunteered from the doorway. "We can just meet in the main hall as we planned."

"I will go, as well," Sten added, coming to stand by the bard. "They may require my blade."

"All right, that's settled then. Thank you both." Serena led the maid into the hall, hoping the sight of the corpses on the ground wouldn't incite her to start screaming again. Thankfully, the woman appeared all screamed out for the moment. She ducked her head low and went to stand near Leliana.

Serena leaned down to her mabari, scratching at his tiny ears. "Peanut, I want you to go with them. Mind what Sten says." She turned back to the bard. "Leliana, if you... see Ser Perth, or any of the knights at the mill, could you tell them to meet us at the front gates? We may need the extra help."

"We'll make sure the gates are open for you all," Alistair told the redhead.

Serena turned to the maid, her fingers rubbing her neck unconsciously. "Please, take care of your father. He is... a severely troubled man." The woman gave her a bewildered look, but didn't respond. Instead she simply nodded her head and left with the others through the dining hall.

"We're nearly to the hall," Alistair said quietly. His hazel eyes were focused on Serena's neck, and she knew he was thinking of the day before, when the girl's father had grabbed her unexpectedly. "Since we no longer have sheer numbers on our side, I think it would be wise if we... kept a lower profile moving forward."

"I believe _that _is the first intelligent thing I've _ever_ heard you say, Alistair," Morrigan replied, smirking at him.

"Well, keep hanging around, Morrigan, and you might hear some more gems of wisdom." He rolled his eyes, keeping pace at Serena's side. "I woke up this morning thinking 'Yes, Alistair, today is the day. Today I will use my brain.'" Serena giggled, pushing through the next set of doors.

More shambling corpses came at them, and with the help of Jowan's chanting and Morrigan's icy blasts Alistair and Serena were able to take the group of them down with relative ease.

"You know, as disgusting as these dead things are, I have to say, I'm liking them a bit better than the darkspawn," Serena said, crushing one of the skeleton's skulls under her boot.

"Really?" Alistair slammed his shield into the last one, knocking it into the wall before taking his blade to it. "Why's that?"

"Well, no headaches, for one." Serena wiped her daggers on the rags of one of the corpses. "Although they do smell as bad. And they try biting as an attack just as often, weirdly enough."

"Ha! I've wondered that myself. Why are you trying to bite me when you have a perfectly decent sword in your hand?" Alistair held the door open for her and the mages. "But... Yes... the headaches... I can tell you, you get used to them, sort of. At least they're handy for sensing the darkspawn."

"True, these things just-" Serena pulled one of the knives from her belt and heaved it at an oncoming ghoul, landing it right in throat. "...Appear out of nowhere, it seems."

They crossed through another hallway and Alistair pushed up against a door. "It's stuck." Serena joined him, pulling one of her pins from her hair. "This door leads right to the main hall."

"Maker's breath... there's no lock!" She replaced the pin in her knot of hair. "So what do we do? Break it down?"

Alistair pushed on the door with his shoulder. "It's too solid... Morrigan could probably blast it off its hinges, but if Teagan is in there... we could end up doing more damage than help." He moved over to another door, trying the handle on it. "Okay, we could go through here and around. This will lead to the front courtyard, anyway. We should check the gate for Leliana and Sten."

Moving through the hallway, they ended up coming out of a side entrance leading to the courtyard. Alistair sprinted to the front gate, working a crank to pull the enormous gate back up.

"There they are! Leliana!" Serena waved down the bridge to the red haired bard. Beside her was Sten and Serena's mabari, along with Ser Perth and six of his knights. Peanut bounded towards Serena, barking happily. "Such a good boy, yes, you are!"

"My lady! So good of you to send your fellows for us." Ser Perth came forward, bowing slightly to Serena. "We were all extremely nervous to hear that Bann Teagan had entered the castle on his own." The knight peered up at the castle, his eyes narrowed, then focused on Jowan. "My lady,_ that_ is the mage that Lady Isolde..."

"Oh, yes..." Serena moved towards Jowan, putting a hand out to protect him from the knights. "Jowan here has done some unfortunate things, but he's been helping us move through the castle. It was nearly overrun with those horrible monsters. I believe he can help us with... whatever we may face inside the hall."

Ser Perth pursed his lips, but nodded. "Of course... Shall we... enter the main hall together? It must be held if we are to regain control of the castle."

"Yes, thank you, Ser." Serena took a deep breath, praying silently to the Maker as she led the way up the stairs and into the main entertaining hall.

The hall was surprisingly full, with a dozen guardsmen hanging around the edges, watching blankly as a man danced and flipped around to a child's amusement. Serena and her companions stood at the end of the hall as Bann Teagan stood on one hand and spun around, breaking into a strange series of awkward dance moves.

On the dais, an auburn haired child stood, clapping and cheering, his dark eyes unusually focused on the bann. Serena was immediately struck by how much he looked like her nephew at this distance. Beside the child, a miserable-looking Lady Isolde stood slumped, her face red from crying.

Serena stood transfixed, her eyes wide. "What in the-" At her words, Bann Teagan stopped his horrific dance and crawled back across the ground to sit by the child's feet. Lady Isolde watched the bann, her eyes wide with fear.

"Ah, so these are our vistors?" The child spoke to them, his voice horribly distorted. Serena had never heard such a sound come out of one so small. "The ones you told me about, Mother?"

"Y-yes, Connor," Lady Isolde replied, her head ducking low.

"And this is the one who defeated my soldiers? The ones I sent to reclaim my village?" Connor leaned forward, his dark eyes focused on Serena. She felt Alistair move to stand next to her and she was grateful. The intensity in the child's eyes was filling her with icy dread that made her want to step back from him. "And now it's _staring_ at me! What_ is_ it, Mother? I can't see it well enough."

"This... this is a woman, Connor," Lady Isolde stammered in her lilting accent. "J-just as I am..."

"You lie! This woman is nothing at all like you!" Connor's eyes turned to his mother, his small hands gesturing wildly. "Why, just look at her! Half your age and _pretty_, too. I'm surprised you don't order her executed in a fit of jealousy!"

The arlessa grabbed her sons arm, hugging him tightly to her. "Connor, I beg you, don't hurt anyone!"

Connor looked up, his dark eyes changing to a light gray. "M-Mother? I... what's... what's happening? Where am I?" Serena exchanged perplexed looks with Alistair. The boy's voice sounded... normal.

Isolde shook her son, kissing his head. "Oh, thank the Maker! Connor! Connor, can you hear me?"

"Get away from me, fool woman!" Connor shrieked, his voice once again the low terrifying baritone. He pushed at his mother, knocking her to the ground. On his other side, Teagan clapped excitedly. "You are beginning to bore me."

"Grey Warden... please don't hurt my son!" Isolde begged from the carpet. "He's not responsible for what he does."

"The boy is possessed," Morrigan murmured. Serena nodded slowly to show she had heard her.

"What... did you do to Bann Teagan?" Serena asked.

The bann giggled perversely, rolling over onto his back. "Here I am! Here am I! Ha ha ha!"

"I like him _better_ this way!" Connor slapped Teagan on the shoulder. "No more yelling. Now he _amuses_ me!"

"Connor didn't mean to do this! It was that mage-" The arlessa pointed a shaking hand at Jowan, tears running down her frightened face. "He poisoned Eamon... he started all this! He summoned this demon! Connor was just trying to help his father!"

"I... I didn't summon any demons!" Jowan cried. "I was locked in the dungeons! I didn't-"

"_It was a fair deal!_" Connor roared, interrupting the mage's babble. "A life for a life! Father is _alive_, just as I wanted. Now it's _my_ turn to sit on the throne and send out armies to conquer the world! _Nobody_ tells me what to do anymore!"

"N-n-nobody tells him what to do!" Teagan called, his voice high and shrill. He rolled around on the floor, his hair flopping about his face. "Nobody! Ha-ha!"

"Yep, definitely possessed," Alistair mumbled. He hand settled on his sword hilt and he sighed. "Monsters, blood mages, possessed kids... must be Tuesday."

"Let's keep things civil, shall we?" Connor stepped down off the dais towards Serena. "This woman will have the audience she seeks. Tell me, woman... what have you come here for?"

"I came here... to help the arl," Serena answered. "We heard he was ill."

"So you're a concerned well-wisher." Connor backed up, coming to stand by his mother once again. "Why didn't you say that in the first place? All this sneaking around and killing is so unnecessary!" Connor turned to the fireplace behind him. "But Father is so very ill... we really shouldn't disturb him. Isn't that right, Mother?"

"I... I don't think..."

"Of course you don't!" Connor raged at her. "Ever since you sent the knights away, you do nothing but deprive me of my fun. Frankly, it's getting dull." The boy turned back to Serena, his eyes wild. Serena felt her hands inch towards her dagger belt. "I crave excitement! And action! This woman spoiled my sport by saving that stupid village, and now she'll repay me!"

The boy clapped his hands once and ran off the dais and behind a door. Around them, the guardsmen and Teagan pulled their swords, rushing towards Serena and her group. She pulled her own daggers, shifting her position to stand back to back with Alistair.

"Knock them out," Serena called to the others. "They're possessed, and may not know what they're doing!" She kicked out, landing one of the guardsmen in the groin before pummeling him over the head with the hilt of her dagger.

"I'm so sorry!" she shouted as the man collapsed at her feet in a heap. Serena spun on her heel and snapped her leg out again, connecting with the stomach of another guard. He fell back with a breathy "oof!", his sword just nearly missing her boot. Serena leaned down and punched him square in the jaw, knocking him out.

Around her, the knights and Alistair were doing much of the same, using their shields to knock the guardsmen to the floor before punching them out. Sten was so large, he needn't even bother with a shield, his fist alone was enough to knock one man across the floor and into a wall.

"A bit lighter than that, Sten, maybe!" Serena called to the qunari. "That man will probably be bleeding from his brain for weeks as it is..."

Morrigan leveled her staff at Bann Teagan, the last of the possessed that were attacking them, and shoot him with a bright light that knocked him back onto his rear end. The dark haired witch strode up to the nobleman, her eyes flashing dangerously, and hit him with a spell right in the chest.

"What did you cast on him?" Alistair shouted, rushing to the bann's side as he passed out into his arms.

"Sleep," Morrigan replied, smirking. "Why? Did you think I'd killed him?"

"Not that I'd put it past you," Alistair murmured, as Serena came to help him drag Teagan's body over to the side of the hall. They propped him up in a chair, leaning his head on one of the shoulders. "Uh, he'll... be okay, right?"

"Certainly. He shall awaken soon." The witch surveyed the rest of the knocked out men critically, searching for what Serena was sure, another victim to cast on. "Ah... didn't hit that one hard enough, I see..." A bright bolt of light passed from her staff into one of the guardsmen who was foolishly trying to get back up and he fell back to the floor, sprawled on his back.

"Teagan! Teagan, are you alright?" Lady Isolde emerged from the bookcase she had taken refuge behind and shuffled over to the bann, shaking him awake. He opened his eyes, groggy and disoriented and nodded.

"I am... better now, I think." He straightened his coat, putting a hand to his head. "My... mind is my own again."

"Blessed Andraste! I would never have forgiven myself had you died, not after I brought you here." Isolde wiped at her face, more tears spilling out. "What a fool I am!"

"Indeed..." Morrigan muttered, and Serena had to stifle a laugh behind her hand.

"Please... Connor's not responsible for this!" Serena eyed the arlessa warily, as if she too was just a possessed animal waiting to attack. "There must be some way we can save him!"

"I'm not about to just kill a _child_," Serena replied haughtily. She'd had more than enough of this woman for today, positive that it was her meddling that had ended up getting her husband poisoned and her son possessed. "You _knowingly_ brought Bann Teagan back in here on your son's orders. He could have been killed! _All_ your men could have been killed!"

"I... I... what could I do?" Lady Isolde cried. "He is a child! My _only_ child! You have to help me..."

"Connor is no longer a child," Jowan said quietly. "He is... an abomination."

"_You!_ You did this to Connor!" The arlessa ran at the mage, her fists in the air. Quickly Serena and Leliana closed ranks to protect the man, holding the raging woman at bay.

"Calm yourself, woman," Leliana said, and her usually light tone was hard as steel. Apparently the arlessa hadn't only gotten on Serena's nerves with all her lies. "He did no such thing."

Jowan backed up near Morrigan, his hands gesturing in a placating way. "Please, I didn't! I didn't summon any demon, I told you! Please, if you'll let me help..."

"Help? You _betrayed_ me!" Lady Isolde screamed at the mage, pushing wildly against Serena and Leliana in an effort to get at Jowan. "I brought you here to help my son and in return you poisoned my husband!"

"Listen to me. You lied to us and everyone else about your son! If Connor is a mage, he should be trained at the Circle of Magi!" Serena put out her hands, pushing the crazed woman back towards Teagan, who caught her deftly and held her. "You put everyone you claim to love in danger by allowing him to be trained by an apostate, and now your own son is possessed by a demon!"

"I... I wanted to help my son! I didn't want to lose him..."

"And I understand that, but what you did was still wrong." Serena stared into the woman's eyes, willing her to acknowledge that. "You and Jowan both made mistakes that rippled into the mess we have now. If we are to help your son, I need you to trust us and stop trying to attack Jowan."

"I know... what you must think of me, my lady," Jowan said quietly. "I took advantage of your fear, and I am sorry. I never knew it would come to this."

"Well, I shan't turn away his help," Teagan replied, letting the arlessa go. "Not yet. And if Connor truly is an abomination-"

"He is not always the demon you saw! Connor is still inside him, and sometimes... he breaks through." Lady Isolde's shoulders slumped as she looked to Serena. "Please, I just want to protect my son..."

"Isn't that what started this?" Teagan's voice was harsh. He must be remembering his funny dance and flip routine from earlier. "You hired the mage to teach Connor in secret... to protect him. Now my brother is ill, the castle taken..."

"If they discovered Connor had magic, then they'd take him away from me! I thought if he learned just enough to hide it, then..."

"Then you are more foolish than you seem," Morrigan said clearly from behind Serena. "Even a properly trained mage cannot _hide_ their magic, nor should they _have_ to."

"Well, regardless, we need to help Connor _now_," Serena reiterated. "What are our options?"

"I... wouldn't normally suggest slaying a child, but..." Alistair took a deep breath. "He's an abomination. I'm not sure there's any choice."

Leliana shook her head. "We cannot kill a little boy, demon or no demon." She turned to Serena, her blue eyes imploring her to agree. "Please don't say we're considering that!"

Serena pursed her lips in concentration. Her thoughts were going all over the place, and she couldn't help thinking of Oren. "I..."

"Connor is my nephew," Teagan said clearly, commanding their attention once again. "But... he is also possessed by a demon. Death would be... merciful."

"There is... another option, though I... loathe offering it." Jowan stepped forward, his eyes on the ground. "A mage could confront the demon in the Fade, without hurting Connor himself."

Bann Teagan frowned. His handsome face was beginning to bruise on one side from earlier. "What do you mean? Is the demon not _within_ Connor?"

"Not physically," the mage replied. "The demon approached Connor in the Fade, while he dreamt, and controls him from there. We can... use the connection between them to find the demon."

"You can enter the Fade, then?" Lady Isolde asked quietly. "And kill the demon without hurting my boy?"

"No, but I _can_ enable another mage to do so." Jowan rubbed his wrists self-consciously and Serena was once again drawn to the burn scars there. She wondered where else the arlessa had burned him. "It normally requires lyrium and several mages, but..."

"You're going to suggest blood magic," Alistair interrupted, coming to stand next to Serena. He exchanged quick glances with her and his normally honey-colored eyes were dark with anger. "No! Absolutely not! You'd basically be killing someone else to use their _blood_ to power the... the whatever you're planning!"

"But you were fine with outright killing a child possessed by a demon, were you?" Morrigan shot back.

"I think we should just kill the demon child and be done with it," Sten replied.

"Wait, wait, wait." Serena held up her hands between the witch and Alistair, quieting all of them. "What is this, exactly? You'd be using someone's _blood?_ Why can't you just use lyrium?"

"Without a sufficient number of mages to power the magic... lyrium wouldn't be enough," Jowan admitted, shrugging helplessly. "Lyrium provides the power for the ritual, but I can take that power from someone's life energy. This ritual requires a lot of it, however..." He frowned, his hair falling into his eyes again. "All of it, in fact."

"So someone must... die? Must be... sacrificed?" The bann sat back down, the weight of this revelation appeared too much for him.

"Yes, and then we send another mage into the Fade while I'm doing the ritual." Jowan ducked his head, his voice very quiet. "Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, it's... not much of an option..."

"You see?" Alistair said. "Someone would have to_ die_ in order for him to be able to help Morrigan battle the demon in the Fade. Assuming she would even go into the Fade at all!"

"Then let it be my blood!" Lady Isolde cried. "I will be the sacrifice! I... I brought this down upon my family, and I should be the one to fix it."

"Hold it, everyone, please!" Serena stamped her foot angrily. "We're_ not_ killing Connor, and we're _not_ killing you, either, Isolde. I want everyone to just... shut up about sacrificing anyone!" She paused, breathing hard. "We have two mages already, if we could... we could get some more than could we do this ritual with lyrium instead?"

Jowan nodded. "Yes, but... where are you going to get more mages? Lady Isolde was lucky to find me."

"Of course!" Alistair turned to Serena, grabbing her hand excitedly. "The Circle of Magi is not far from here! It's just on the other side of the lake! I mean, if they would even _do_ it..."

"Then we'll go to the Circle and find out," Serena said. "I'm not murdering a child _or_ his mother out of sheer... laziness!"

"But... what will happen here?" Lady Isolde murmured. "Connor will not remain passive forever."

"The alternative is we kill you or your son, or who knows, both of you accidentally," Serena said, staring the arlessa down. "Can I get a show of hands of people who would prefer that?" Unsurprisingly, Morrigan and Sten raised their hands, and Serena frowned, pointedly ignoring them. "_We're going to the Circle._"

"Very well," Bann Teagan said, nodding. "I will keep Jowan here as a precaution. He says he wants to help, so he will keep an eye on Connor with us. Go to the tower quickly, then. The longer you are away, the greater the chances of disaster."

"I understand," Serena said. "Seal the door to protect yourselves, if you must." She turned to her companions, already stomping her way towards the door. "Let's get our things from the Chantry, we're leaving. _Immediately_."


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all of you following and reviewing. I'm currently working on chapter... 37, I believe, so the update pace may quicken pretty soon, as I'm very excited about how the story is coming along so. On a side note, Jowan, and a few of the other characters from the Mage origin, are slightly tweaked in my story, because I basically didn't like how depressing the game made them all. Mages are people, too, darnit, and they deserve to be happy! Well, as happy as you can be with your country torn apart by civil war and darkspawn. Heh.

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><p><span>Chapter 30<span> - _The Call of the Crow_

They left for the Circle Tower that very afternoon with the Feddic wagon along the Imperial Highway. Bann Teagan had generously provided them with a few horses so they may move more quickly to the other end of Lake Calenhad. By his own request, Sten had stayed behind in Redcliffe village to help the mayor organize the clean up efforts.

"I can do more here to help these people than I can in convincing a bunch of magic-wielding lunatics to help us cure a demon child," the large qunari had grumbled at Serena. "I would talk you out of going yourself, but as I understand it, you also have a treaty with the mages, so this may not be _completely_ foolish." Serena left Peanut behind with Sten, who she noticed was quite keen on her dog, as she did not think the Circle Tower would take kindly to her giant warhound.

Despite their reasons for going, Serena found herself relieved that they did not have to walk the entire way this time. The horse the bann had loaned her was a beautiful cinnamon colored mare, with a white star on its muzzle. Teagan had not known its name, so she had christened her Aster, in honor of her ivory nose patch.

As they were only able to borrow two horses, Serena rode along beside Alistair while Morrigan sat in the back of the wagon, creating poultices for the group, and Leliana rode up front with Bodahn and his son, Sandal. The former Chantry sister was discussing enchantments with the boy's father, last Serena heard, so Leliana could play her lute on the road at a louder volume.

Alistair jockeyed his own horse, an enormous gray stallion, nearer to Serena's, keeping pace at her side. "So... how are you doing?"

"Better," Serena replied, giving him a small smile. "I'm sorry I... lost it, back there at the castle. I was just getting so frustrated with everyone." She slowed her horse to a slow trot, so she could better speak with him. "It was... rough, seeing that little boy like that. I kept thinking of my nephew, and my sister-in-law Oriana, and... I can't helping thinking maybe I was too hard on Lady Isolde."

"Yes, well, I can't say I didn't agree with everything you said to her," Alistair said, shrugging his shoulders. "I know she didn't intend to cause everything she did, but at the end of the day... what's done is done. She made some selfish decisions that ended up hurting a lot of people."

"I know, and I stand by everything I said, it's just... if Oren had been a mage... I don't know. It really isn't fair, is it? The way they keep all of them locked up in that tower." Serena gazed out at the marshy forest beyond as she rode past. "We're just as dangerous, when you think about it, we just have less... accidents."

"I've often wondered myself if the Chantry isn't too hard on mages," said Alistair thoughtfully. "It's not as if they can help what they are, the Maker gave them the gift of magic..."

Serena nodded enthusastically. "Exactly! And locking them up in a tower... wouldn't that just make you more likely to turn to forbidden magic to escape? Look at Jowan..." Serena paused, thinking about the mage. "If they treated the Circle more as a _school_, and less as a prison, we wouldn't have so many apostates running around poisoning people and turning into demons."

"I'm just glad we're doing the right thing, going to the Circle for help. I can't believe-"

"Oh, thank the Maker! Miss! Ser! Please! We need help!" A disheveled blonde woman ran out from a side road onto the highway, waving her arms frantically at their group. "They've attacked our wagon, please, could you help us?"

"I... yes, of course," Serena called down to the woman. She saw Leliana had turned to see what the commotion was about at the front and she waved to her. "Bandits! This woman and her caravan have been attacked!"

Bodahn slowed their wagon and Serena and Alistair rode up to meet them. "Bodahn, we'll just be a bit. This woman needs our help. Could you hold onto our horses?" She handed the reins over to the dwarf and hopped down as Leliana joined her. Morrigan came around the wagon, using her staff almost as a walking stick.

"Why have we stopped? Certainly you two aren't hungry _again_," Morrigan called, rolling her golden eyes at them.

"No, it's bandits. This woman's wagon has been attacked." Serena indicated the frightened blonde nearby. "We're just going to go sort it out."

Morrigan sighed heavily. "Why must we stop and help every pathetic passerby that happens upon us, Warden?" Serena noticed the witch always referred to her as 'Warden' when she thought they were doing something she considered to be pointless.

"If bandits have attacked her wagon, surely they will round back and attack ours," Serena replied patiently. "Besides, I've been on that horse for 3 hours now, and my bottom could use some exercise."

"Follow me," the blonde woman said, leading Serena and the others down the side road. "I'll take you to them!"

"I didn't want to say anything... but it is getting a bit big..." Alistair murmured from beside her, making a ridiculous gesture with his hands.

"Oh? You've had a good look at my bottom then?" Serena shot back, elbowing him playfully in the ribs.

"Ah, ouch. Right, no. Great bottom, top shape. Very... well-formed." Alistair grinned, his face turning just slightly red. "Really, I haven't seen better." The woman led them through a pass, rocks hanging over the path, and into a narrow clearing where Serena could see a downed wagon not far ahead.

"I don't see any-" Serena frowned as the blonde sprinted ahead of them, waving to an armored man standing in front of the wagon. He raised one hand, and suddenly the clearing filled with about ten people, men and women, all holding weapons. "Oh..." Serena cursed, pulling her daggers.

"One day, your bleeding heart will get us all _killed_," Morrigan drawled, a ball of magical flame forming in her hand. She tossed it forward, lighting the downed wagon on fire, and they saw the bandits' deceptive blonde accomplice dive out of the way, the hem of her dress on fire.

"The Grey Wardens die here!" The armored man shouted, racing towards them, a long sword in each hand. Serena decided he must be the leader, and met him head-on, her daggers parrying each of his blows deftly. Around her, she saw Alistair knock into a small cluster of archers, his long sword slicing down quickly before he moved on to engage his next opponent.

Leliana battled two assassins at once, her swords flying in both directions, while Morrigan shot spells in each direction, more combatants falling over the ridge to their deaths as she struck them.

Serena's opponent, she was vaguely surprised to see, was a tattooed elf, who had much the same fighting style as she did, although unfortunately for her, he was much stronger. He tried sweeping his blades under her, but she slid at just the last moment and he took one of her blows to the leg, cutting through his leather armor.

"Ah, I see you are not just a pretty lady," he taunted, ducking and spinning away, his laughing smile almost as obnoxious as his low blows. "I had heard that the Grey Wardens were phenomenal fighters, but alas, I only thought this to be true against the darkspawn." Serena noted he had an accent, Antivan, perhaps. It reminded her of Oriana's speech, when she had first come to live with them so many years ago.

"Who's to say you're any different?" Serena called, kicking out with one foot to catch him in the knee. He grimaced, but quickly recovered, swinging one of his swords to cut her across the arm. She hissed, stepping back, and he moved forward again, looking to press his advantage.

"Serena!" Alistair's voice was only a short distance away, and before the advancing elf could get closer, she saw him fling his shield, knocking the assassin to the ground. Serena flipped her dagger in her hand and quickly brought the hilt down on his forehead, knocking him out.

"Are you alright?" Alistair and the others surrounded her as she stared down at the prone elf. Alistair pulled a bandage from his pack and wrapped Serena's arm, stemming the flow of blood. "What was this? An ambush?"

"I believe he shouted 'The Grey Wardens die here'," Leliana said, pushing at one of his arms with the toe of her boot. "Perhaps another assassination attempt by Loghain?"

"You know, those are really getting old now," Serena said, picking up on of the elf's arms and dragging him over to the wagon. "Do any of you have any rope? I'd like to question our new friend here once he wakes up." Leliana rummaged in her pack, pulling out some twine, and started wrapping it around the assassin's hands and feet.

After a few minutes, the elf came to, his eyes rolling a bit. "Mmm... what?" He focused on Serena and the others and slumped. "I... oh. I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But I see you haven't killed me yet." He looked down at his bound hands and feet and wiggled them gingerly. "Who did these?"

"That would be me," Leliana said, smirking at the assassin.

"Nicely done, although..." He smiled roguishly at her, his eyebrows popping up suggestively. "I often prefer them _tighter_."

"Oh, Maker... We should have just killed him," Alistair murmured, rolling his eyes. "I could kill him. Can I just kill him?" Serena grinned at him, enjoying the assassin's effect on her... whatever Alistair was to her. She wondered if this man got caught often then, that he could make such jokes when tied up?

The blonde elf grinned at Alistair, his mood surprisingly cheerful for someone just knocked out and tied up. "I have no doubt you could. You are most skilled with that shield of yours." The assassin eyed Serena carefully. "Since you haven't killed me, however, you must have kept me alive for some purpose, yes?"

"You seem awfully glib for a prisoner," Serena said, crouching down next to the man.

"It is my way, or so I am told." The elf shifted, moving into a sitting position, his bound hands resting in his lap. "Let's see, then. I assume you kept me alive to ask me some questions, yes? If so, let me save you time and get right to the point. My name is Zevran. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens." He sighed dramatically. "Which I have failed at, sadly."

Serena laughed. "I'm rather happy you failed, myself."

"So would I be, in your shoes. Or, stylish knee boots, as it were." He flashed the same rakish smile from before at Serena and she rolled her eyes. "For me, however, it sets a rather poor precedent, doesn't it? Getting captured by a target seems a tad detrimental to one's budding assassin career."

"Hmm, that seems like a personal problem to me," Serena replied. "So, what are the Antivan Crows? I've never heard of them."

"I can tell you that," Leliana said lightly. "They are an order of assassins out of Antiva. Very powerful, and renowned for always getting the job done... so to speak. Someone went to great expense to hire this man."

"Quite right," the elf said, nodding. "I'm surprised you haven't heard much of the Crows out here. Back where I come from, we're rather infamous."

"Imagine that, the Antivan Crows are infamous in _Antiva_." Alistair rolled his eyes. "Who would have thought?"

Serena smiled at him. The assassin was the first fun they'd had in days, weeks maybe. She could barely feel her arm throb from the wound he had inflicted. "Who hired you to... to take us out?"

"A rather taciturn fellow in the capital... dark hair, only scowls? Loghain, I think his name was?" The elf rolled his eyes up, thinking. "Yes, that's it. There was another man, as well, a... Howd."

"Howe?" Serena sighed, her old wounds from Highever pushing gently to the surface. "So... are you loyal to him?"

The assassin laughed, his shoulder shaking as if this was the funniest thing he'd heard all day. "I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual, I imagine. You threaten his power, yes? Beyond that, no, I'm not loyal to him. I was contracted to perform a service."

Serena exchanged glances with Alistair over the assassin, and she saw him watch the action, his eyes flipping between the two of them as if he was deciding something. "So what happens now that you've failed at this service?"

"Well, that's between Loghain and the Crows," the elf replied. "And between the Crows and myself."

"And between you and me?" Serena asked.

"Believe me, young lady, I would love to have _nothing_ between you and me right now," the elf purred at her. Serena rolled her eyes, hoping she wasn't blushing. "But yes, I had assumed that was what we were establishing right now..."

"When were you to see him next?" Leliana asked.

"I wasn't." The elf's pale eyes flipped between Serena and Leliana, as if he couldn't decide who to address. "If I had succeeded, I would have returned home and the Crows would have informed your Loghain of the results... if he didn't already know." Zevran shrugged non-committedly. "If I had failed, I would be dead. Or I should be, at least as far as the Crows are concerned. No need to see Loghain then."

"If you had failed?" Serena challenged.

"What can I say? I am an eternal optimist." The assassin grinned at them. "Although the chances of succeeding at this point seem a bit slim, don't they? Ha. No, I don't suppose you would find that funny..."

"How much were you paid?"

"I wasn't paid anything," the elf replied promptly. "The Crows, however, were paid quite handsomely. Or so I understand." He sighed, running his bound hands awkwardly through his hair. "Which does make me about as poor as a chantry mouse, come to think of it. Being an Antivan Crow isn't for the ambitious, to be perfectly honest."

"Then why are you one?" Serena asked. Her curiosity about this man was getting the better of her. "Let me guess, it has a great dental plan?"

Zevran laughed. "Well, aside from a distinct lack of ambition, I suppose its because I wasn't given much of a choice. The Crows bought me young. I was a bargain, too, or so I'm led to believe. But don't let my sad story influence you. The Crows aren't so bad. They keep one well supplied: wine, women, men..." He grinned, raising an eyebrow at Alistair. "Whatever you happen to fancy."

"Though the whole severance package is garbage, let me tell you. If you were considering joining, I'd really think twice about it."

"Thanks. I''ll take that under advisement," Serena replied, standing up once again. "Why are you telling us all of this? Shouldn't you be...refusing to talk at all?"

"Ha, I was not paid for my silence." The elf seemed to consider this for a minute. "Not that I offered it for sale, but regardless. I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works. If you don't kill me, the Crows will. The thing is, I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So... let me serve you, instead."

"So you can finish the job next time we take a nap?" Alistair scoffed. "I don't think so."

"I happen to be a very loyal person, actually," Zevran replied. "Up until the point where someone expects me to die for failing." He shrugged. "That's not a fault, really, is it? I mean, unless you're the sort who would do the same thing. In which case, I... don't come very well recommended, I suppose."

"All right, well..." Serena pulled one of her daggers and cut the elf's leg bounds. "Assuming you don't try to murder us all in our beds, I guess you're coming along."

"A fine plan," Morrigan said dryly. "But I would examine your food and drink far more closely from now on were I you."

"That's excellent advice for anyone," Zevran added, grinning at the lot of them. He cleared his throat, bowing his head to Serena. "I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation... this I swear." He looked down at his still-bound hands and smirked. "I suppose these stay for awhile longer, yes?"

"Yes. We just met after all... This nice guy routine could all be an affect of your concussion." Serena peered around the battlefield, seeing if there was anything worth taking with them. "Maybe we should collect the swords and things... we could sell them or donate them to the militia at Redcliffe maybe..." She started to wander off when Alistair pulled her back.

"They can pick up the weapons, I want to take a look at that cut properly," he said, unwrapping the bloody bandage on her arm. Serena hadn't even noticed it'd started bleeding again. Alistair shrugged off his pack and pulled out a fresh bandage and some of the miracle cream he'd used on her stomach.

He frowned as he peered at the wound, holding her arm delicately. "It's a lot deeper than I thought," he said, rubbing some of the ointment over it. Serena sighed in pleasure as the cooling sensation of the cream overtook the sting of the cut. Alistair's eyes flicked to hers briefly, and he couldn't help smirking. "Feels good?"

"Oh, you have _no_ idea," Serena said, her voice utterly languid. "I almost want to cut myself more often just so you can... ah..." She felt her face blush furiously. "Nevermind. That... didn't sound so bad when I thought it."

"I _still_ don't think it sounds so bad," he replied quietly, raising an eyebrow. He wrapped the fresh bandage around her arm, knotting it gently. "You just let me know where it hurts-"

"I believe your companions, or should I say _our_ companions, have finished looting the corpses of my lessers and are heading back to wherever you came from," Zevran said from behind them. Serena hadn't even heard him walk up. "If you two are ready, I think we are moving on."

Serena looked around. Leliana and Morrigan had already started back down the road to Bodahn's wagon.

"Right, ah, yes." Serena smiled at Alistair in thanks. "Our friends wagon is this way. You can ride in the back, if you like, or whatever." Her head still felt fuzzy from the close encounter with Alistair. She would have to get ahold of that... whatever it was that happened to her when he was near her. It was like a heat, and a buzzing in her blood that constantly alerted her to his presence. She wondered if he felt it, too... if it was some... Grey Warden thing. She would have to ask him later in camp.

"I don't suppose I could try to talk you into releasing my hands, could I?" Zevran asked sweetly, keeping pace beside her. He held out his hands hopefully.

"You're lucky she let you have your feet," Alistair replied from Serena's other side. "You know, you don't seem very upset that your comrades over there are dead."

"Why should I?" Zevran answered. "I did not know them, they were not Crows, simply hired muscle." He shrugged. "I have learned it is survival of the fittest. They were obviously not as fit as me, and I was obviously not as fit as you. Not this time, anyway."

Alistair opened his mouth to retort but Serena cut him off. "Annnnd we're all on the same side now." She pulled her dagger again and cut the rope holding the assassin's hands together. "I'm doing this on good faith, Zevran, don't make me regret it."

"As I said, my life is forfeit without your mercy. I owe you the most delicious of blood debts, my dear. And there are worse things in life than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess, no?" The elf rubbed his wrists, grinning at Alistair, and Serena was surprised to see him smile back at the blonde assassin.

"He has a point, Serena..." Alistair conceded.

Serena blushed, picking up her pace to avoid them. "I... I think I hate you both." She could hear the two men laughing as she headed back to the wagon, her face feeling very much like it'd been burned by the sun.


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone reviewing and following, you guys are the best!

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><p><span>Chapter 31<span> - _And Then, There's The Nightmares_

The first night in camp with Zevran was the liveliest yet. Normally, everyone was utterly exhausted by the day's events, retiring almost immediately after dinner was finished. Tonight was a flurry of activity, with Leliana playing her lute and Zevran flirting shamelessly with her while Serena and Alistair worked on their second bowl of stew by the fire. Their dueling foreign accents sounded almost like music in and of themselves to Serena, and she found herself more contented than she had been since before they arrived in Redcliffe village.

After dinner was cleaned up, Leliana left to help Zevran set up his tent and pick up supplies from Bodahn, and, she assumed, flirt some more with the elf. Bored, Serena took out the leather vest from the general store and sized it up. Alistair had let her borrow a large needle, so she hoped to make some solid headway on replacing her ruined leather breastplate.

She worked steadily for over an hour, pushing the needle in and out to create holes for the lacing, stretching the leather so it fit her just right. After a time, Alistair came to sit beside her, a pile of nearly dry clothing next to him on the cloth mat between them. He pulled out a small sewing kit and started to patch the holes in his tunics, working much more quickly than Serena would have expected of a man.

Serena adjusted her light shirt, fitting the nearly finished corset over her head. She pulled some leather lacing through the front, knotting it at the top. Noticing Alistair's eyes on her, she did a little twirl, her hair bouncing down around her shoulders from the messy knot that usually held it.

"So... what do you think?" Serena stood still, posing for him. He pulled himself up, inspecting the leather closely.

"It fits surprisingly well, considering it was originally a men's vest." Alistair fingered the leather lacing at the top and Serena felt the familiar buzzing she always felt around him intensify inside her. "Looks good, too. How does it feel on you? Can you move in it?"

"Oh, yes, it's great. See? " She stretched her arms out and bent forward, touching her toes. She straightened back up and grinned at him. "This is going to sound crazy, but... do you want to spar? With me?"

"What? Right now?"

"Yes, right now. I kinda of want to test this out." Serena danced from foot to foot in front of him. "I know, it's crazy! But do you ever just... feel _good?_ Like you could just..." She threw a few swift punches at the air and saw Alistair was smiling at her.

"All right, yeah. I'm game. Let's go over here, though, away from the fire..." He towed her into a clearing just beyond the trees next to their camp where the ground was made of softer sand. "Shall I get some swords, or...?"

Serena sized him up, moving into a defensive stance, raising her fists up. "I think you have all the weapons you need, my prince."

"Oh-ho, dear lady!" Alistair grinned, rolling out his shoulders, and put up his fists. "You wish to see what I'm made of?"

"I do, indeed." Serena rocked forward, throwing a few quick punches that Alistair blocked. He swung his foot around, and she did an awkward little jump, just missing his sweep. He threw another punch and she ducked under it, smacking him in the side. "Point! You are going to have to do better than that to best me, Alistair! You leave your right side wide open." She danced around him, as he blocked her punches with his open palms. "Is that splintmail weighing you down, I wonder?"

"You know, I think it is..." Alistair said, backing up. He unstrapped his breastplate and threw it to the side, then shrugged his shirt off as well. "Much better." He rolled his shoulders out again, and Serena felt her jaw drop slightly at the sight of his bare chest. "Are you all right, my lady?" Alistair grinned at her, raising his fists again into a defensive stance. "You look all... _flushed_."

"Oh, you..." Serena sprinted at him, releasing a flurry of half-hearted blows that Alistair easily blocked. "You are... cheating!"

"Cheating? How am I cheating?" Alistair pivoted on his heel and threw a punch, landing it on Serena's shoulder. "Point."

"I... you..." Serena backed up, regaining her focus. She rolled her shoulder out, ignoring the sting. "You'd be having a time of it, too, you know, if I decided I wanted to fight you in my underwear!"

Alistair laughed, blocking another series of punches. "I thought I'd save that until we got to know each other a little better, Serena."

"Oh! You are going to _get_ it!" With each word, she smacked at him, finally sweeping her foot around to catch at his ankle. He tipped but didn't fall, instead pulling her in for balance as she landed a hit to his side.

"Point," she said. "I told you, Alistair, I am feeling _good_ tonight." She moved forward and took two of his quick punches, blocking them easily. They moved quickly now, and Serena was reminded almost of a dance. She vaguely wondered if Alistair actually knew the Remigold, as he once joked.

"I wonder... is that _all_ you're feeling?" Alistair asked, sweeping Serena's feet out from under her. She landed on her back, and Alistair pressed down, landing another hit on her new armor. "Point. Next point wins, Serena." He watched her, tempted to help her up. "You seem to be preoccupied."

"It's that damn _buzzing_," Serena said, rolling and pushing herself back up. "Whenever I'm around you... it's like my blood is _alive_. Tell me you feel it and I'm not going crazy?"

Alistair grinned. "Yes, I feel it, too. Whenever you're near. It's the taint." They circled around each other. "I'll explain once I've won this little bout."

"Once_ you've_ won?" Serena swung her right arm and he blocked it deftly, moving his other arm to block her left before it came around. Alistair slipped his arm under her defenses and pulled, using her own momentum against her and flipping her up and over his back where she slid to the ground with a small shriek. Spinning quickly, he held his hand out in an imitation of a blade at her throat.

"Do you yield?" He swept his fingers across her neck gently, his grin utterly victorious.

"I... yield, my prince," Serena said quietly, leaning her head back against the sand and closing her eyes. "I can't believe you flipped me, and then.. stabbed me! I should be _dead_ right now."

"Then you're lucky I'm sweet on you and showing you my infinite mercy," Alistair said, pulling her back to her feet. "Here, let me just gather my things and I'll tell you everything I know about being a Grey Warden." He picked up his discarded shirt and armor, heading back to camp. Serena watched as he dropped the armor and beckoned for her to follow him to the nearby river.

Pulling off her boots, she waded into the river to her ankles, the water cooling her all over. She shook out her hair, wiping all the sand and dirt from her arms and leggings. Beside her, Alistair put his hands in the water, washing his arms, then his face, then his chest. Serena found herself openly staring at him, utterly transfixed by how his muscles moved and how the moonlight reflected off his skin.

Her toes curled in the soft sand at the bottom of the river, her mind flipping rapidly to less innocent fantasies. She didn't know if she wanted him to hurry up and put his shirt back on or if she should start removing clothes, too...

"And what have you two planned this evening, I wonder?" Morrigan moved forward, leaning casually against a tree. Serena felt her face redden in guilt. "'Tis a full moon tonight... perhaps a late night swim?" Alistair looked over his shoulder and shrugged, all but ignoring her.

"We were sparring," Serena answered, tearing her eyes from Alistair. "What are you doing out here?"

"I was preparing for a run, actually," the witch replied, moving away from the tree.

"I wouldn't take you for a woman who enjoyed exercise," Alistair said. He flicked the excess water from his arms and stood up.

"Not in this skin, no." Morrigan flashed them both a predatory grin. Within seconds she had changed from the beautiful dark haired witch to a wolf, sleek and black. The wolf turned its head to Serena and she swore she could see it smile at her. In a flash, the wolf was gone, disappearing between the trees.

"She is _so_ weird." Alistair came to stand beside Serena in the water, running his feet into the sand at the bottom. "Did you know she could do that?"

"I suspected it, yes. She told me when we first met her that she knew the wolf who had come to me that night in the Wilds. She said they had run together, so I assumed she could... you know. Change." Serena shrugged, her eyes on his feet instead of his bare chest. "You're still... without a shirt, you know." She could feel her cheeks warm up again, despite the cool water.

"Yes, it's payback, I think, for all those times you dilly-dallied around me in your small clothes," Alistair replied. "Plus, I like how it makes you blush."

"It's sort of strange, though. The less there is between us, clothing-wise, the harder it is for for me to touch you. When you're in full armor, I seem to have no problem teasing you."

"Is my bare chest that offensive?" Alistair moved to pick up his shirt off the bank and Serena batted it down, shaking her head.

"No! No, of course not. I..." She paused, thinking of the right words to explain. "Do you really think I've been around so many half naked men that I'm simply immune to it?" She bit her lip, gingerly touching his chest with her fingers. "Maker have mercy, I feel like I might... catch fire."

"Now you know how I felt back in my tent in Ostagar," Alistair replied, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Serena ran her fingers down his chest to his belt, touching the cool metal there. "_Felt?_ You don't feel it anymore?"

"No, it's so much _worse_ now." Alistair stroked her cheek, his normally honey colored eyes were dark with emotion. He leaned in and kissed her full on the mouth. Serena pushed up on her toes in response, deepening the kiss, enjoying the buzzing in her blood as it sang for her to be closer to him.

"You know we... shouldn't be doing this..." Serena whispered between kisses. "We're the last... and the Blight..."

"There won't always be the Blight," Alistair said softly. His arm was tight around her hip, holding her to him. "It won't always be like this for us."

"Are we an us?" Serena wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling his neck. "Can we even _be_ an us? The whole... everything... depends on us. The Blight, Connor... we have to raise an _army_... There's so much to do..."

"And I know that when I'm with you, I feel like I can do _anything_." Alistair stroked her hair gently. "I... don't know what will happen, or what this is, but I know what I feel." He pushed her chin up and kissed her again. "I know that for better or for worse, you're stuck with me until we kill that archdemon."

"Pity, that," Serena said, running her fingers down his arms to his hands. "Why couldn't I get stuck with a _handsome_ Grey Warden?" She felt his fingers tighten on hers and she grinned.

"That reminds me, I brought you out here because I promised to tell you all our Grey Warden secrets..." He tugged her over to a tree and sat down. She settled next to him, their hands still intertwined. "So, you already know about the appetite thing... have you... had any nightmares?"

"I... is it normal to?" Serena ducked her head, her hair falling in a curtain, shielding half her face. "I've had some trouble, the last few nights. I thought it was because... stress, from the... from Redcliffe, and everything. Do you have them, too?"

Alistair nodded. "Less, now, but when I first Joined... nearly every night. Duncan always told me it's part of how we sense the darkspawn, and when we sleep, it's even worse. You learn to block it out after a while, but at first it's hard." He ran circles into her hand with his thumb. "It's supposed to be worse for those who Join during a Blight... How is it for you?"

"This is going to sound so silly, but..." Serena sighed. "It's easier, when you're... near. I don't know if it's because I can sense your presence, and I just know it's not darkspawn, but... they weren't so bad, when you slept near me last night."

"Some people never have much trouble, but that's rare. Others have trouble sleeping their entire life. They're just more sensitive, I suppose. Everyone ends up the same, though. Once you reach a certain age, the real nightmares come. That's how a Grey Warden know his time has come."

"What do you mean? His time has come..."

"Oh... that's right. We never had time to tell you that part, did we?" Alistair looked away, as if embarrassed. "Well, in addition to all the other wonderful things about being a Grey Warden, you don't need to worry about dying from old age. You've got thirty years to live... give or take."

Serena blinked at him, her mind working slow. "Thirty years? So... we just... oh."

"The taint... it's a death sentence. Ultimately your body won't be able to take it. When the time comes, most Grey Wardens go to Orzammar to die in battle rather than... waiting. It's tradition." He was watching her now, watching for her reaction. "You'll always find darkspawn down there, I suppose, since the dwarves live so far underground. The oldest Grey Wardens head to the Deep Roads for one last glorious battle..."

"Not that there's a shortage of darkspawn during a Blight, but that's the tradition. The dwarves respect us for it. I've heard they even have their own... legion, I suppose... who do the same. I've never met anyone in it, though." He paused, a crooked smile splitting his face. "And you wondered why we kept the Joining a secret from the new recruits! Well, there you have it."

"I... I guess it all makes sense." Serena shook her head. "Thirty years... wow, so Duncan was... yes. It all makes sense. We stand apart from everyone else because of the taint, and... we... can never be normal, not really, could we?"

"No, not really. You know, Duncan... he started having the nightmares again. He told me that- in private. He said it wouldn't be long before he'd go to Orzammar himself." Alistair sighed. "I guess he got what he wanted. I just wish it had been worthy of him."

"He'll... he'll be remembered, Alistair." Serena held his hand tight, scooting in close to him. "All of them... our brothers and sisters... they live on in us." She wished her voice sounded more steady.

Alistair smiled sadly, leaning his head on hers. "I know, I... I suppose ending the Blight... should make this all worthwhile, right? You know, maybe... once this is all over we could find him, back in Ostagar. Duncan, I mean. I'd like to do something for him, a memorial, or I don't know. He didn't have any family left that I know of, but he told me he was from Highever. Maybe we could... do something there."

"Absolutely. He deserves to be remembered for everything he's done for the Grey Wardens. For us." Serena snuggled against Alistair. "We'll see that it's done."

They sat in silence for awhile, both quiet and simply enjoying each other's company. Serena had never felt so simultaneously excited and at ease with someone before. With the future so uncertain, Serena was grateful to have someone to share her thoughts and fears with, someone who understood it all, understood _her_, so well.

"Were you... serious, about the nightmares?" Alistair's voice was quiet. "I mean, about them being better when you're... with me?"

Serena looked up into his face. "Yes, it's... well, everything is better when you're near me." She kissed him gently. "We don't have watch tonight. You could... stay with me. Not to... you know... just to sleep."

"I... yes. Okay. Just to sleep." Alistair shifted, offering her a hand up. They headed back to camp where Leliana was playing a card game with Zevran. The assassin grinned at them, laying down a few cards.

"That is three cards for me, Leliana, if you would be so kind. Wardens, would you care to play a bit of Wicked Grace with us?"

"Ah, no, we were just... going to bed." Alistair pulled on his shirt, blushing slightly.

"Again? Is that not what you just did in the woods?" Zevran laughed, flipping another card. "You have quite the stamina, my friend. Is that a Grey Warden trait?" Beside him, Leliana tried covering her fit of giggles with her hand, to little success.

"We were sparring, then went to the river to wash up," Serena said. "Not as innocent as _cards_, perhaps, but we weren't... engaging in anything off-color, I can assure you."

"Ah, too bad. It is a beautiful night for love-making, what with the full moon and all." The elf shrugged, as if Alistair and Serena's choice in late night hobbies bored him. "Enjoy your sleep, Wardens. The bard and I shall watch the camp tonight."

"Uhh, right. Goodnight all." Alistair discreetly slipped into Serena's tent and she followed. Kneeling down onto her bedroll, Serena removed her new breastplate and dumped it in the back as Alistair pulled off his boots.

They snuggled down into the bedroll, and Alistair gently stroked Serena's long hair. "I know you have a big heart, and you and Leliana like to give people the benefit of the doubt... but I think I don't like that elf very much."

Serena smiled softly, her body feeling sleepy and relaxed next to Alistair. "Yes... he's little _too_ perceptive, isn't he?"

Alistair sighed, wrapping an arm around Serena's waist. "Yes, I _hate_ it."


	32. Chapter 32

**Author's Note:** And now we're officially at the tower. Hooray! I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. Thanks all for the great (and hilarious) reviews, and for following along!

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><p><span>Chapter 32<span> - _Kinloch Hold_

Their party was back on the road early the next morning, Serena determined to get to the Lake Calenhad docks by nightfall. Alistair rode along beside her, the autumn sunshine warming his skin as he remembered how pleasant it had been, waking up with Serena in his arms.

Serena's body had been curled up next to him in the bedroll, one of her slender hands resting lightly on his chest. He had wondered vaguely if perhaps he was still dreaming, that it was some trick of the Fade, but then she had shifted, her eyes fluttering open, and he knew it wasn't a dream. The memory made him sigh happily. He _never_ wanted to be apart from her, if he could help it.

"You look lost in thought, my prince," Serena called to him. "Your smile tells me you are thinking something good, though."

Alistair blushed, caught up in his thoughts of her. "I... I was just... thinking of the Tower. Yes. Have you ever seen it? Kinloch Hold is... quite the sight. Very big. Majestic."

"No, I've only seen drawings of it, in books, you know." Serena pulled her horse up next to his, so she wouldn't have to speak so loud. "There's... a lot of templars there, right? Since it's filled with mages?"

"It probably has the most on-duty templars in all of Ferelden," Alistair replied. "Although it's still only 3-to-1, I believe. Three mages to every templar."

Serena watched him out of the corner of her eye as they rode. "What was it like? For you, I mean. I've sort of wondered... you don't talk about it much."

"Oh, you don't really want to hear about my time as a templar, do you? It's quite boring."

"Then make something up that's more exciting," Serena replied, grinning at him.

"Ha, I like the way you think." Alistair paused, shrugging. "I guess if you're really curious, there's no harm in obliging... I don't talk about it much because... I hated going to the monastery. The initiates from the poor families thought I put on airs, while the noble ones called me a bastard and ignored me. I had no friends, no family to speak of... I felt like Arl Eamon had... cast me off, unwanted."

Alistair glanced over at Serena, his face working to mask the resentment he still felt. "I was... determined to be bitter. But I took some solace in the training itself, I guess. I was... actually quite good at it." He shrugged again, and Serena could see some of the tension go out of him. "I never really felt at home anywhere though, until I joined the Grey Wardens. Duncan felt my templar abilities might be useful for when we encountered darkspawn magic-"

"Or demons."

"Yes, or demons. So, I kept it up." Alistair smiled at her, and she was pleased to see it wasn't tinged with any of the unhappiness from his childhood. "What about you? Do you have anywhere you consider home?"

Serena pursed her lips. "Ah, with my brother... missing, I... Highever is lost to me for now. Maybe forever. I'm a Grey Warden now, anyway." She turned to him, and he could see her blue eyes were intense. "So I suppose my home... well, I suppose it's here... in the Grey Wardens, with you."

"Really?" Alistair found himself pleasantly surprised at her answer. "I... I guess I like the sound of that. We won't always be traveling like this, you know. Once the war is over, once the Blight is... well, a time will come when we'll have to think about having a _real_ home again."

"Are you saying my tent wasn't homey enough for you last night? I think I'm offended!" Serena stuck her nose up in the air and Alistair couldn't help but laugh at how haughty and disaffected she was trying to look. Serena Cousland had to be the most caring and gracious noble he'd ever met.

"While I do miss a proper bed..." Alistair began. "I have to say the company was quite nice." He watched her face melt from its fake arrogance into a genuine smile as she turned to him.

"Yes... the company was quite nice." Serena blushed lightly, her cheeks turning rosy in the sun. "So I wonder... would you humor another question from me?"

"Anything," Alistair answered. He watched as her cheeks reddened even more and he was curious what it was she wanted to ask.

Serena glanced at him; her blue eyes were full of mischief. "If you were raised in the Chantry, have you never...?"

"Never...? Never what? Had a good pair of shoes?" Alistair grinned, enjoying playing with her. If she truly wanted to know, she would have to work for the answer.

"Oh, you know what I mean!" Serena said, sticking her tongue out at him.

"I'm not sure I do," Alistair said innocently. "Have I never... seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Have I never... licked a lamppost in winter?"

"Now you're making fun of me!" Serena flipped her head, her braid bouncing off her shoulder as she turned away from him. Alistair couldn't help the grin he had, she was utterly endearing to him when she was flustered.

"Make fun of _you_, dear lady? Perish the thought!" Alistair leaned closer so their horses were only a foot or so apart. "Well, tell me... have _you_ ever licked a lamppost in winter?"

"I... maybe. Once or twice." Serena ducked her head, her cheeks as red as two ripe apples.

"Just the once? And you didn't lose half your tongue in the process? I'm impressed." Alistair jockeyed his stallion to slow to keep pace with her smaller mare. "I, myself, have never had the pleasure... Not that I haven't thought about it, of course, but... you know."

"Oh?" Serena eyed him carefully, her expression a mixture of curiosity and excitement. Alistair wondered briefly if she knew how gorgeous he thought she was, especially when she smiled. "Have you never had the... opportunity?"

"Well, living in the Chantry is... not exactly a life for rambunctious boys," Alistair replied. "They taught me to be a gentleman, especially in the presence of beautiful women such as yourself... That's not so bad, is it?"

"You think I'm beautiful?"

Alistair laughed. "Of course you are, and _you_ know it! You're ravishing, resourceful, and all those other things you'd probably hurt me for not saying."

"I would never hurt you, Alistair," she said. She smirked. "I mean, not _permanently_, anyway..."

"No? I bet I could stand some light bruising here and there..." He could feel himself blush lightly at his own brazen words. "It might be nice to get patched up by _you_ sometime."

Serena grinned at him, her normally blue eyes were dark with what he could easily read as something close to desire. Desire for _him_. He shifted slightly in his saddle as his mind sunk to more baser instincts.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she said softly.

* * *

><p>They arrived at the docks at nightfall, just as Serena had hoped. She and Alistair had switched out riding the horses with Leliana and Zevran in the afternoon, so they would have some time to relax. Serena had ended up playing a few rounds of Wicked Grace with Alistair and losing every hand but one, while Morrigan sat nearby and read a book on the relationship between willpower and spellcasting.<p>

As they came upon the docks, Bodahn halted the wagon near a small inn called The Spoiled Princess. The dwarf came around to the back and waved to the Grey Wardens and Morrigan has they hopped out. "Well, me and the boy will probably stay here while you all... do what you need to get done. Let me know if their quartermaster needs any enchanting done, though!" Bodahn gave them another little wave and went with Sandal into the inn.

Serena glanced around the docks, unsure what to do. She knew the Circle Tower was in the middle of the lake, on a small island, but she didn't know the bridge out there would be completely in ruins.

"The ferryman's down there, at the docks," Leliana said helpfully, pointing to a figure down the hill. "I'm sure he could get us across to the tower tonight. It's only early evening."

As they headed down the path to the docks, Serena could see Alistair shift beside her as they stepped onto the wooden planks. "That's not a ferryman... it's a templar. I recognize the armor."

"You! You're not looking to get across to the tower, are you? Because I have strict orders not to let _anyone_ pass!" The templar didn't have his helm on, and Serena could see he looked flustered at the amount of people now crowding his dock.

"We're Grey Wardens, young man," Serena said, affecting her most superior tone of voice. "We have business at the tower with the mages."

"Oh, you're a Grey Warden, are you?" the templar sneered. "Prove it."

"_Prove it?_" Serena turned to Alistair and he shrugged, grinning.

"Yeah! Kill some darkspawn." The sandy haired templar bounced on his feet back and forth, his armored hands making curious gestures at them. "Come on! Let's see some righteous Grey Wardening."

Behind her, Serena could hear Zevran laughing. "This is joke, yes? Surely."

"Grey Wardening isn't something you... _do_," Serena said carefully. "It's... what you are."

"Blech, semantics." The templar rolled his eyes. "If you aren't going to do nothing, then it was nice chatting with you. Now, on your way. Right now." He made swishing motions with his hands. "Go."

"Oh, come on. Can't we work something out?"

The templar eyed their party, his gaze landing on Morrigan. "That, uh, dark haired temptress over there... surely the tower would be far too dull for her... Because it gets a little lonely out here sometimes... and you know, you could just leave her with me..."

Serena couldn't believe what she was hearing. What was _wrong_ with this man? He honestly thought she would leave Morrigan with him for... what? Sensual companionship? "Oh, you don't want her, she's got a big boyfriend. _Huge_ guy. He'll just rip you apart-"

The templar rolled his eyes. "That's funny, I don't _see_ a boyfriend. Unless you're talking about Blondie here? Or the elf? She with the elf?" He turned to Morrigan. "You with the elf?" Serena could hear Zevran and Leliana openly laughing now and the templar blushed, realizing, correctly, that _he_ was the subject of their sniggering.

"No, no, Serena. Let me take care of this." Morrigan moved forward, stepping right up to the templar. "I have been hoping for some new prey."

The templar backed up a step. "Prey?"

"'Twill take but a moment," Morrigan drawled, putting a hand on the man's breastplate. "Perhaps you should go aboard the vessel to prepare while we are away. We must row ourselves across." She ran her fingers down along the man's chin, and Serena could see her nails left slight red marks. "I fear the lad will no longer have the use of his limbs... or his eyes, once I am done with him."

"Er... maybe I should-" The templar shifted uncomfortably under the witch's gaze.

"Wonderful! I can sense his terror! Oh, that will make the loving all the _sweeter_."

"So, you said you wanted to get across? Maybe we should go now." He backed away from Morrigan again and nearly fell off the end of the dock. "Right now. **_NOW_**."

Serena had to cover her mouth to hold in her laughter at the templar's ridiculousness. She would have to thank Morrigan later for being so perfect. She really hadn't thought it was in the witch to play along. Ever. "Yes, let's get going. Time is ticking away." Serena hopped into the boat after Morrigan, who, she was delighted to see, sat right next to the templar at the front, only hand on his armored knee.

The trip across the lake was cold, but luckily, very quick. The templar rowed at an exceptional speed, aided by magic and perhaps a bit of fear, or so Serena assumed. Alistair sat next to her in the small boat, and she couldn't help but lean into him a bit against the chill, both of them smiling at the frightened look on the templar's face as he kept glancing at Morrigan.

"I never thought I'd see the day where I would be _glad_ she's in our little band of misfits," Alistair whispered into Serena's ear.

"Ha, yes, she was brilliant, wasn't she? I thought that boy was going to wet himself right there on the dock."

"I just hope she doesn't antagonize the other templars in the tower..." Alistair glanced over at Serena and she saw he was serious. "They won't all be so... compliant. The templar order is basically the fighting arm of the Chantry, and many of them take their vows _very_ seriously. Almost obsessively so."

"I'm sure Morrigan knows when to hold her tongue around strangers," Serena replied, watching the dark haired witch gaze across the lake. "As difficult as she can be, she does her best to make things easier for everyone."

Alistair sighed, squeezing her hand briefly. "Well, let's hope so, anyway..."

* * *

><p>Inside, the tower was chaos.<p>

Serena had been expecting a bustle of activity, perhaps people rushing to grab dinner, or attend a nightly mass, but what they found was little far from utter mayhem. Templars ran around the main floor, their armor clinking loudly as they passed.

"...And I want two men stationed within sight of the doors at all times. Do not open the doors with my express consent. Is that clear?" A large man in templar armor with a red sash around his waist was barking orders to a small cluster of others. "Now we wait... and pray."

"That's the knight commander," Alistair murmured to her. "I think his name is Greagoir. He'll know what's going on if anyone does, but... did you see the doors? They're barred."

Serena looked where he was discreetly pointing. "Are they keeping people out? Or in?"

"Good question," he replied.

"Ah, hello? Knight-commander... Greagoir?" Serena curtsied politely to the bearded man Alistair had indicated as the one in charge. "May I ask what's going on here?"

"We are dealing with a very delicate situation. You must leave, for your own safety." He had a clipped, brusque tone that reminded Serena of her Nan, strangely enough.

"We're Grey Wardens. We've come to speak with the First Enchanter about the mages obligation to aid us during a Blight," said Serena, hoping her voice sounded confidant enough.

"I am weary of the Grey Wardens' ceaseless need for men to fight the darkspawn, but... it is their right." The man looked their group over, and his eyes appeared infinitely tired, like he hadn't slept in days. "You'll find no allies here, I'm afraid. The templars can spare no men, and the mages are... indisposed. I shall speak plainly: the tower is no longer under our control."

Greagoir pursed his lips, as if he found his next words distasteful. "Abominations and demons stalk the tower's halls. The Circle is lost. The tower has fallen."

"_What?_ I..." Serena paused, her mind trying to catch up with her mouth. "What can we do to help?"

"I have sent word to Denerim, calling for reinforcements and the Right of Annulment," replied the knight commander.

"What... what is that?"

"The Right of Annulment gives templars the authority to neutralize the mage Circle. Completely."

"You mean kill them? All of them?" Serena didn't know if she was hearing correctly. How could they just murder all the mages left in the tower?

"The mages are probably already dead," Alistair said softly. "Any abominations remaining in there must be dealt with no matter what."

"I will not lie to you. This situation is dire." The knight commander paced across the ground, his brows knit in irritation. "There is no alternative- everything in the tower must be destroyed so it can be made safe again."

"Mages are not defenseless, though," Serena replied, speaking to Alistair almost as much as Greagoir. "Surely some of the must still be alive."

"If any are still alive, the Maker Himself has shielded them." The man shook his head, and again Serena saw how tired and haunted he looked. "No one could have survived those monstrous creatures. It is too painful to hope for survivors and find... nothing."

"_We_ will search the tower for survivors then. I refuse to believe that every mage within the Circle willingly laid down their lives!"

"I assure you, madam, an abomination is a force to be reckoned with, and you will face more than one."

"We have faced them before, and we will do so again." Serena stared down the templar, her blue eyes cold. "I will not allow the Circle to be forsaken without proof that it is lost."

"A word of caution, then," Greagoir replied, his own tone icy. "Once you cross that threshold, there is no turning back. The great doors must remain barred. I will open them for no one until I have proof that it is safe."

"What shall I bring you as proof then?"

"I will only believe it is over if the first enchanter stands before me and tells me it is. If Irving has fallen... then the Circle is lost, and must be destroyed."

Serena nodded. "I... all right. Yes, I understand." Serena turned, leading her group to the large doors the knight commander had indicated.

"May Andraste lend you her courage, young lady," Greagoir called as the templars allowed them inside and the metal doors shut with a loud clang behind them.


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone reviewing and following! It makes so happy to hear you guys are enjoying the story and my portrayal of the characters.

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><p><span>Chapter 33<span> - _The_ _Broken Circle_

Serena had been expecting a tower flooded with demons, much like Redcliffe Castle had been, but the inside of the Apprentice Chambers looked relatively untouched. Bunk beds were pushed over in some of the rooms, lockers knocked to the side as if a great gush of wind had whooshed through the hall, but the area was quiet, and clearly devoid of demons.

"I... thought when we came in here, there would be... I didn't think it would be empty." Leliana peeked inside another room, shaking her head. "Do you think everyone is dead?"

"I see no bodies," Zevran replied, checking another room for occupants. "Unless they are all... what did that man call them? Abominations?"

"We fought demons back at Redcliffe," Alistair said. "They tend to make themselves known pretty quickly."

"Well, just be ready with your fancy templar anti-magic spells, okay? If there's demons here, they didn't just wander into the Circle of Magi by accident." Serena pushed through a door and they were immediately assaulted with the sound of shrill screaming.

A giant fiery demon pushed through a glowing barrier, wailing and waving what had to be its arms. An older woman stood between Serena and her companions and the demon, raising her staff high. With a rapid swing, ice flew out of the end, covering the demon head to toe as it slowly dissolved before them.

The woman turned, her eyes narrowing in recognition. "It's you! No... come no further. Grey Warden or no, I will strike you down where you stand!" Behind her, two younger women and a few small children stood, all looking terrified.

"W-Wynne? What are_ you_ doing here?" Serena held up her hands, as if to display she was unarmed. "I... didn't expect to see you here..."

"You're the woman who healed Serena... back in Ostagar!" Alistair had come to stand beside her. "Please, dear lady, we mean no harm."

"Why are you here? The templars would not let just anyone by."

"We... we came here seeking the aid of the mages. The Blight looms, and there is a child..." Serena paused, not wanting to burden the woman with everything all at once. "I'm sorry, the knight-commander told us-"

"You were told the Circle was in no shape to help you, I suppose," Wynne replied. "So why did the templars let you in? Do they plan to attack the tower now?"

"Knight-Commander Greagoir has sent for the Right of Annulment," Alistair said, taking the lead. "But it hasn't arrived yet."

"They sent for it, then..." Wynne exchanged glances with the red haired mage beside her. "I feared they might have. What else could they do?" She shook her head, sighing heavily. "So Greagoir thinks the Circle is beyond hope. He probably assumes we are all dead. They abandoned us to our fate, but even trapped as we are, we have survived." The woman paced the floor, her expression a mixture of sadness and defiance. "If they invoke the Right, however, we will not be able to stand against them."

Serena glanced at the mages; glad she had chosen to come inside. Did the templars know there were _children_ in here? Defenseless? She turned to Wynne. "We can help you, just... what happened here? Greagoir said the tower was crawling with abominations and demons, but we've only seen that one."

"Let it suffice to say that we had something of a revolt on our hands, led by a mage named Uldred," Wynne explained. Serena could tell by the way she said the name of the man that he wasn't a friend. "When he returned from the battle at Ostagar, he tried to take over the Circle. As you can see, it didn't work out as he had planned. I don't know what became of Uldred, but I am certain all this is his doing." She stomped her foot angrily. "I will not lose the Circle to one man's pride and stupidity!"

"So... what do you intend to do?"

"I erected a barrier over the door leading to the rest of the tower, so nothing from inside could attack the children. You will not be able to enter the tower as long as the barrier holds, but I will dispel it if you join with me to save this Circle."

"Absolutely," Serena said, nodding fervently. "If you all have survived, surely there are others within the tower. Mages, templars... we have to help them if we can."

"Once Greagor sees that we have made the tower safe, I trust he will tell his men to back down," Wynne said, beginning some complicated hand gestures near the barrier. "He is not unreasonable, he is simply scared."

"He should try being on this side of the doors," the red haired mage cried.

"Greagoir also mentioned the first enchanter," Leliana added. "He will only allow us out if that man says its safe."

"Then our path is laid out before us. We must save Irving." Behind her, the glowing barrier dropped.

"You want us to _assist_ this preachy schoolmistress? To rescue these pathetic excuses for mages?" Morrigan's voice was absolutely incredulous. "They allow themselves to be corralled like cattle, mindless! Now their masters have chosen death for them, and I say, let them have it."

"Morrigan, you easily could have ended up in the Circle, if things were different." Serena stared into the witch's eyes, willing her to understand. "Outside the Wilds, and without us, you would only escape the templars for so long. People leave you alone now because they believe you are a Grey Warden as well."

"I _could_ be here, had my mother not shielded me from the templars, so I am to show sympathy?" Morrigan laughed, and it was a disturbing sound. "My mother often said things are the way they are, because they could not have been any other way. I always questioned this..." Morrigan turned away, shrugging her shoulders. "Do what you wish. I care not."

"I don't believe that's true, Morrigan, but regardless, we don't have the time to argue it now." Serena followed Wynne and the others.

"We should leave immediately," Wynne said. She turned to the other two women with her. "Petra, Kinnon... look after the others. I will be back soon."

Zevran laughed, spinning a dagger idly in his hand. "Oh, I like her. She is feisty _and_ optimistic!"

"Wynne... are you sure you're all right?" One of the women moved forward, lightly touching the older woman on the arm. "You were so badly hurt earlier. Maybe I should come along."

"The others need your protection more, Petra. I will be all right. Stay here, keep them safe and calm." Wynne turned back to Serena, motioning for her and her companions to follow her. "I am somewhat surprised I was able to hold this in place for so long." She gestured to the barrier, which was slowly dissolving much like the rage demon had just moments before.

"Well, sometimes we find strength within us that we didn't not know we had," Serena replied.

"Correct." The white haired mage smiled at her, and Serena couldn't help feeling like she'd just gotten an answer right in class. "Be prepared for anything. I fear that demon was just the beginning of what we might face."

"Then let us get on with it, shall we?" Morrigan pulled her staff and marched through the doorway, proud as a peacock.

Serena sighed heavily. "Don't mind her, she's... well... she can be sort of..."

"Imperious?" Alistair supplied.

"Ooohh... Such a _big_ word for the templar-to-be," Morrigan called back to them. "Warden, you should see this."

"Is she talking to you or me?" Serena asked Alistair.

"Probably you," he replied. "I'm apparently _templar-to-be_, or occasionally, _the big idiot_." He shrugged and pulled his long sword, jogging into the hallway. Around the corner, they found Morrigan staring down at the body of a broken and bloody mage.

"This bodes well," Morrigan drawled. Serena pulled her bow and nocked an arrow into it. She saw Leliana pull her swords as Zevran slid his second dagger from its sheath.

"All right, let's keep our eyes open and-" Before Serena could finish; she was cut off by a long, low howling. Down the corner came a trio of monsters, bulging with red pus and burned tissue, they were the most horrible things Serena had ever seen. They looked like people who had been turned inside out, all blood and guts and veiny membrane.

"Mages!" Wynne called, beginning to cast.

"_What?_" Serena shot an arrow into one of them as Alistair crashed into another with his shield, his sword coming up to slice through its middle. "_Those_ are mages?"

"They've been twisted by magic, made into abominations of their former selves!"

Wynne and Morrigan flung spells down the hall, blasting the monsters twisted forms back as Serena shot them again with her bow. Alistair swung his sword wide as the head of one of the monsters went flying off. Before it hit the ground, the head exploded in a small burst of flame and Alistair dove for one of the nearby tables just as the body of the thing burst apart behind him.

"Get down! Everyone get down, they explode!"

Serena felt herself move in slow motion as Zevran grabbed her and Leliana by the wrist and threw them to the ground behind him. She felt an intense cold go over the three of them and then a bright light as the heat of the exploding bodies packed the library and clashed with one of the mage's freezing spells.

"Is everyone okay? Leliana? Serena? You have all your pretty little fingers, yes?" Serena felt hands on her as she tried to roll to the side, her ribs aching. She opened her eyes and Zevran held out a hand to her as she nodded gratefully to him for his timely save.

"W-what happened?" Serena winced as the pain in her ribs throbbed. "These things can _explode_, too?"

"I was not expecting them to do that..." Wynne swung her staff in an arc and Serena felt her ribs twitch as they worked to mend themselves. "That should heal any minor wounds."

"Are you a healer, Wynne?" Leliana was touching her forehead where some blood had dried around a healed cut there. "We could certainly use one of those."

"I have spent many years here in the Circle, and my speciality is in spirit healing, yes." Wynne led them through the apprentice quarters where they found a few more dead mages, most of them near Serena's age or younger. "So much death... Uldred will be held accountable for this..." Serena watched as Wynne took in the havoc of each room. "To slaughter his brothers and sisters..." They moved up the next floor where they met a dark haired man in mage robes.

"Please, refrain from going into the stockroom. It is a mess and I have not been able to get it into a state fit to be seen." Serena recognized the man as one of the Tranquil, like the bizarre flat-toned man she had met near the mages tent in Ostagar. Although it couldn't have been more than two or three weeks ago, it felt like Ostagar had been... another lifetime, perhaps.

She stared down the man, the symbol of the Circle burned into his forehead. "What are you still doing here? You should get out."

"I tried to leave when things got quiet," the man continued in his dull tone, impervious to Serena's discomfort. "That was when I encountered the barrier. Finding no other way out, I returned to work."

"Owain, you should have said something!" Wynne came forward, touching the man lightly as if he were a wayward pet or something. "I would have opened the door for you."

Serena peered around, taking in the other's reactions to the strange man. Alistair watched the man, an expression of distaste on his face. Zevran simply raised an eyebrow in question, as if he considered the man politely insane.

"The stockroom is familiar, I prefer to be here." The man, Owain, sighed. "I would prefer not to die. I would prefer it if the tower returned to the way it was. Perhaps Niall will succeed and save us all."

Serena turned back to the Tranquil man. "Who is Niall? What is he trying to do?"

"I do not know, but he came here with several others, and took the Litany of Adralla."

"But that protects from mind domination." Wynne frowned. "Is blood magic at work here?"

"I do not know," Owain replied simply.

Alistair groaned. "Great... _more _blood mages. Why is it _always_ blood mages? Why can't it ever be... blood-thirsty puppies or something?"

"I believe they call those werewolves, my friend," Zevran replied, smirking at the former templar.

"Niall was in the meeting. He would know." Wynne shook her head. "Blood magic... I was afraid of this."

Leliana sighed, her normally cheery face looked disturbed. "What does this mean, Wynne?"

"Blood magic could control us, too. Who knows what could happen then? Owain, you should go back to the barrier, Petra will be able to let you out." The older mage waved to the Tranquil and Serena watched as he walked calmly down the staircase and out the door. "We should find Niall. The Litany will give us a fighting chance against any blood mages we may encounter."

About to walk further, Zevran made a quick gesture, throwing out his arm to stop Serena from moving forward. His eyes glanced around and he touched his ear with one finger, signaling to her he was listening to something. Serena gestured to the others to be quiet and stay back as she kneeled down next to the assassin and they both moved nearer to where the voices were coming from.

"...We're making sure _no one_ disrupts Uldred's plan. I thought that was quite clear." A man was speaking; his voice was intimidating and low, and Serena couldn't help the feeling of dread that settled in her stomach as she and Zevran crawled closer.

"But he's _not_ Uldred anymore... I _never_ wanted it to go this far..." The woman sounded stressed and emotional, like she'd been crying.

"Neither did I, but this is what we're faced with and-" Another woman's voice sounded petulant, like a child who had had a favorite toy taken away.

"Quiet! Both of you!" It was the man again. "I think I heard something. Keep your eyes open..."

"I believe that is our cue, Serena," Zevran said, picking himself up. "Hello, dear friends! Please do not shoot me with your blood magic."

"Oh yes, real subtle, Zevran." Serena rolled her eyes, following him around the corner, her hands on her daggers. "We will offer you all mercy in exchange for you promising to not harm anyone!"

The male mage sneered at them, pulling a dagger from his belt and running it across his wrist. "You haven't seen anything yet, elf!" His blood became a ribbon winding itself around his wrist as waves of power washed off him.

The sound of footsteps sprinting towards them filled the room as Alistair and the others joined them. He made the same complicated motion as he did at Redcliffe and the blood mage screamed, his magic collapsing onto himself.

"I can't cast! I can't- ahhhh!" The mage ran at Serena with his dagger, shouting curses, his bleeding arm raised and streaming everywhere. Serena dodged him and kicked, knocking him back into a group of bookcases. Zevran moved forward and slit the man's throat as his eyes rolled up and he fell to the ground, bleeding out on the rug. He turned to the two female mages, grinning savagely.

"I don't suppose either of you want to take a look at what we did to your male friend here and decide to come quietly?"

"Please, please don't kill me!" One of the women fell to her knees, her hands outstretched. Serena recognized her voice as the woman who had sounded like she'd been crying. "I'll do anything!"

"Danea, you fool! They're not _templars!_ **_Kill them!_**" The dark haired woman began to her swing her staff wildly at Serena and Zevran as Danea slid under a table to get out of the incensed mages way.

Serena dodged as the woman pressed forward, her eyes completely mad, swinging the long staff like a club. Zevran rolled out of the way of the woman's throws, as Serena continued to try to dodge her flailing attacks, looking for an opening. She grabbed the mage's staff, wrestling with the mage as the woman pushed her back, the staff coming free of Serena's grip. In a matter of milliseconds, the wood staff connected with Serena's skull and she felt her head explode in agony as she slid to the ground, absolutely still.

The blood mage shrieked excitedly, bringing her staff around to slam it down again as Alistair moved, quick as lightning, grabbing the woman's staff and pressing her against the wall with it.

"_**I'm** a templar_," Alistair said dangerously. He snapped the staff in half over his armored leg and tossed it aside angrily. Rage poured off him in waves as he wrapped his gauntleted hand around the woman's throat and lifted her off her feet by the neck. "Don't even try to cast, or I'll squeeze your throat until it pops."

"Please, she doesn't mean any-" Danae began to cry from behind the table as Leliana and Zevran pulled Serena's body over to Wynne and Morrigan. Wynne touched Serena's forehead with her hands, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Alistair could hear their hushed whispering as they scrambled over Serena's body.

"For your sake, you better hope she gets back up." Alistair tightened his grip on the dark haired mage as she spat at him, kicking helplessly at his legs.

"We'll... _kill_... you... templar," the woman forced out each word, nearly choking on them. "She is... but the first of... many! Chantry puppets... Uldred will win... you'll see!" She twisted uselessly against him, her face getting redder and redder.

"May you find no rest at the Maker's side, _malificar_." Alistair scowled at the woman, his eyes dark and hard as stone. He jerked his hand atop her head and heard a crack as the woman's neck snapped. He shoved her broken body to the side and went to Wynne as Danae crawled to her friend's side, sobbing.

Alistair kneeled by Serena, touching her hand softly as Wynne continued to press her head with bright blue healing magic. "Serena... please wake up. I need you to be okay..." The others had backed up, standing awkwardly, waiting to see if their unofficial leader would be all right.

Unable to stand the tension, Zevran went to pick up the last mage from the ground and sat her down on a toppled bookcase. "I think you should probably be quiet for now," he said to the woman. "Unless you plan on attacking me like you all did my friend there?"

"No, no, never! I'm sorry!" The woman looked piteously into her hands, wringing them over and over. "I know I have no right to ask for mercy, but I didn't mean for this death and destruction. We were... we were just trying to free ourselves."

"I... uhhhnnn... " Serena sat up, her eyes slowly opening. "My head...?" She felt Alistair tug her to him and she let herself be pulled. "Alistair? What happened?"

"A woman hit you in the head with her staff, Serena," Leliana said quietly. "How do you feel?"

"Like I just fell off the apple cart... onto my _face_..." Serena touched Alistair's cheek softly, his concern felt like a blanket over her. "I'm fine, really. I think I'm okay." Serena stood up, a little wobbly, and walked over to where Zevran was sitting with the last woman.

"Hello," Serena said, staring down at the disheveled woman. "Please do not hit me with anything."

"I won't, I swear! I'm sorry for what Margot did!" The woman tried to stand and Zevran pulled her back down by the robes. "Uldred told us that the Circle would support Loghain, and Loghain would help us be free of the Chantry!"

"This Loghain seems to be a very busy man," Zevran quipped, watching the woman warily. "Hiring _me_ to kill you, empowering these bloody mages to hit you with big sticks... I really think this Loghain wants you dead, Serena."

"Alas, it would certainly appear that way. Lucky for me he keeps failing." Serena touched her head where Zevran could see a bruise was starting to form. "So, let me take a wild stab at how things went down... this Uldred told you he could help you all escape the tower, right? I see that's worked out so well."

"You... you don't know what it was like here! The templars were watching, _always_ watching..."

"What you've done here has hurt the mages' cause more than I think you realize," Serena said carefully. "People _fear_ magic, fear demons and the power you all are capable of possessing... you should be teaching them _tolerance_... not proving the Chantry right by summoning demons! Maker, what is _wrong_ with you?"

"Blood magic has never done anything good for anybody," said Alistair bitterly, standing next to Serena. "Your friends are dead, and countless other_ innocent_ people... and for _what?_"

"We thought... someone always has to take the first step... force a change, no matter the cost," Danae cried. "Andraste led nations against the Tevinter magisters..."

"Andraste fought to deliver her people and the elves from _slavery_," Leliana replied harshly, her bright eyes narrowed at the mage. "Not to summon demons and kill innocents."

"I did not know Uldred would go _mad!_ And now we are scattered... doomed to die at the hands of those who seek to right out wrongs..."

"And yet all you do is wallow in self-pity. You take no pride in your gifts, or else you would use the Circle to teach magic to others who possess the power." Serena leaned towards the woman. "_The one who repents, who had faith, Unshaken by the darkness of the world, She shall know true peace_." Serena held out her hand to the woman. "I will spare you, but I hope that you see the destruction you wrought here and know that these second chances do not come often."

The mage clutched at Serena's hand, shaking it and bowing her head. "I know, thank you! The Maker will surely turn His eyes on you for your mercy!" Danae bowed again, awkwardly, and ran out of the room.

"Are you sure it was wise to allow her to leave, Warden?" Zevran stood up, his eyes on the woman's retreating back.

Serena glanced sidelong at the elf. "I offered _you_ mercy and it has served me well so far. Besides, she won't get far past that barrier if she has ill intentions. I'll hunt her down myself." Serena shrugged, rubbing her head. "We should get going... I just hope we find more people that aren't hell-bent on summoning demons. Or hitting me in the head with those bloody staffs..."


	34. Chapter 34

**Author's Note: **This was an extremely difficult chapter to write, not in plot, just in pure emotional drain. Every time I turn around it seems something horrible is happening to poor Serena. Murdered family, the debacle at the Joining, nearly dying at Ostagar... The Warden just can't seem to catch a break! It's wonder she doesn't just give up. The moral of the story is "Dragon Age is a game where bad things happen to pretty okay people, all the time." The end!

Anywho, thanks to everyone following along and reviewing and everything. You're all wonderful. :)

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 34<span> - _Twisted Desires_

Two more levels of the tower revealed more and more corruption from the demon realm. Bloody postules grew along the walls of the tower, reminding Serena very much of the darkspawn taint they saw in the Tower of Ishal. She wondered if perhaps what Wynne had told her, all the way back in Ostagar about the darkspawn and the Fade wasn't true. It would certainly make sense, given the look of the Circle Tower now...

Their group spread out across the floor, searching for survivors, finding a surprising amount of mages who appeared unharmed, albeit terrified, and even a few templars, although they were significantly more battered than the mages. Serena instructed the survivors to remain together to reach the barrier, hoping that the instincts needed to remain alive would bond the mages and templars into a better working relationship than they had previously.

Assuming none of them killed each other on the way downstairs, of course.

They wandered through the rooms, eventually coming upon a large office. Books and papers littered the floors as if someone had ran through here searching for something in a hurry, and she saw Morrigan wander near them, looking through the tomes curiously.

"This is Irving's office..." Wynne looked around the half-destroyed room. "I half-expected to find him here, but... I suppose that's too much to hope for."

Serena neared his desk and picked up a journal, flipping through it. She saw one of the later entry's mentioned Uldred quite a bit and pocketed the journal while Wynne was turned.

"I think perhaps he has some lyrium potions around here somewhere we could... borrow..." Wynne rummaged through a chest at the back of the office and Serena suddenly felt better about her pocketing of the journal.

Demons continued to stalk the halls as they made their way through the tower, popping out of rooms and rushing their party. Ensorcelled templars ran at them, unknowingly attacking their potential saviors. Alistair had everyone move to disarm them, refusing to outright murder the entranced men. Eventually they bound up the trio of bewitched knights, tying them to a statue.

"Those are mine," called a overly feminine voice. "I _earned_ them..." A purplish demon, nearly naked save for a small loin cloth, and curvy to boot stalked into the room. Two great horns curved out from her forehead, as purple fire burned atop her head, like some wicked candle. Her voice had a silky, captivating note to it and Serena could see even Wynne and Leliana appeared fascinated by the creature.

"She is a desire demon," Morrigan said. "Do not listen to what she says. She will offer you-"

"I simply aim to please, dear girl..." The demon cooed at the witch. "Happiness is bewitching. There is a certain power in all things mortals delight in. Emotions are intangible..."

"Happiness is normally caused by something real- real events, real people!" Wynne shook her head. "What you've done to these people is... abhorrent."

"This is unholy," Leliana gasped, ducking her head to avoid the demon's gaze. "She is feeding off our innermost desires..."

The desire demon moved forward, her hips swaying. She leaned towards Alistair and Serena saw him close his eyes tight, turning his head away from the thing as it pressed against him. "But you have so much desire within you to taste... don't you, young man? What's that in your mind...? Oh, _no_…"

The demon put one finger under his chin, pressing her face so close to his, her voice whispering to his mind. Alistair could hear her taunts as he tried to shield his mind, tried not to think of...

The desire demon laughed, her voice almost like the purr of a cat. "She can _never_ love you the way I can... Oh, no, she's only human... You know this... She doesn't have my _power_... I could make you happy _forever_..."

"I... I don't..." Alistair cringed at the demon's touch, unable to move away from her. "Get out... of my head..."

"G-get your hands off him!" Serena shouted. She felt absolute fury well up inside her as she pulled one of her daggers and threw it, landing it right in the demon's stomach. "You foul, loathsome thing! Don't you _dare_ touch him!"

The demon screamed, pushing Alistair to the ground and ran at Serena, a purplish blur. "You think you can take him from me? That you can take _any_ of them from me?" The demon ripped Serena's dagger from its middle, and grabbed her, stabbing the dagger into her shoulder. "Let's see how it looks on you, girl!"

The demon pushed, knocking her to the ground, and Serena felt an icy spell wash over her as she tried to move her limbs to fight back and couldn't.

"Using passion and jealousy as weapons are a fine choice, but I daresay your methods need a bit of practice." Zevran pulled his long dagger and stabbed at the demon, slicing her across the chest.

Crimson blood spurted down her purple skin as she screamed, casting another spell. Skeletons rose from the ground, coming to attack their party, as Wynne and the others pulled their weapons, attacking the demons in full force The skeletons surrounded them as they worked, fighting their way back out of the melee via sheer force. Morrigan shot spells that sent a skeleton crashing into a wall, and they could hear Zevran yelling in victory as he sliced the demonic woman to death.

With the desire demons' spell broken, Alistair rushed to Serena's side, making the complicated gestures again as she felt her body start to respond to her commands again. The pain in her shoulder intensified ten-fold as she realized her dagger was still lodged in her body. "Serena, can you...?"

"I can move, I can... oh, Maker... my shoulder..." Serena reached back and pulled her dagger from just above her leathers with an agonizing sound. She could feel the gash bleeding freely down her back now and she winced, her face losing all its color. Her head swam as she grabbed for him, clutching his fingers. "I... I'm sorry, Alistair... I m-meant to s-say-"

"No! No, no, just... just hold on-" Alistair held her shoulder, the blood, _her_ blood, was covering his hands quickly as he tried to stop the flow. "I can stop this, I can... just... Oh, Maker..." He fumbled at his back, pulling the handkerchief from his pack and pushing it against the wound, where it soaked red in seconds.

Serena felt her head spin again as the blood loss caused her to collapse in Alistair's arms. "I... s-sorry..." Her blood was now pooling beneath them, a great dark puddle of her life, dripping slowly out. "Love…" Her eyes rolled and she fainted, her body going limp in his lap.

"No, no, Serena... no, I love you, please-" Alistair held her close, his eyes blurry with tears. "Wynne! Please! You have to help her!"

The older mage ran to them, dropping to her knees as blue magic sparked from her hands into Serena's spiritless form. "Come on, girl, I can sense you're still in there... Just _wake up_..." Wynne pressed on her shoulder, and Alistair saw the wound close, the skin mending itself with the help of the magic into a long pink scar. "She's lost a lot of blood, I think... she just passed out from that... It may take a short while for her to... regain consciousness."

Alistair held her to him, her pale skin almost paper white from the blood loss. He felt tears escape his eyes as he rested his head in her hair, her breathing disturbingly shallow. At least she _was_ breathing now.

How many times had he held her injured body in his arms? How many times had he been unable to help her as she nearly died in front of him? They wouldn't even be here if not for him, for her want to help his pseudo-family...

Leliana kneeled down beside the former templar, her eyes on Serena. "Alistair, we are going to go clear the rest of the floor and help the templars downstairs... You should stay here with her, until... until she wakes up." He felt the bard pat him softly on the shoulder as she stood, the rest of his companions leaving the room. Leaving him alone with Serena.

"Please, please wake up, Serena..." He cradled her body in his arms, rocking her gently, his voice barely a whisper. "I love you, please don't leave me... you have to wake up... oh, Maker, _please_, don't let her go..."

It felt like hours, although it couldn't have been more than a quarter of an hour, before Serena stirred in his arms, her slender body shifting against him. He felt his chest tighten as she coughed, the color coming back to her cheeks. "Alistair...?"

"Serena! Oh, Serena, thank the Maker..." Alistair kissed her forehead, nearly hysterical with relief. "How do you feel? Are you... are you okay?"

"Did I fall asleep?" Her blue eyes looked around warily, as if she couldn't remember where she was. "The... the demon!" She jolted in his arms and he held her tight.

"It's all right, she's dead. She's dead, Serena." He stroked her hair softly. "Do you remember anything?"

Serena turned in his arms; her eyes finding his hazel ones slowly. "I thought she was going to _take_ you... I hit her, and then... I don't know." She shook her head, as if there was something buzzing around in it. "What happened?"

"She ran at you, I... I couldn't move. I couldn't help you. She made me think such horrible things..." Alistair knew he was babbling, but his guilt at not being there for her was running amok in his mind." She stabbed you and the cut was deep..." He looked down, and saw Serena follow his gaze. Her blood was everywhere, all over her back and his chest... drying on the floor around them.

"That's... all me?" Serena scowled, her hand touching the puddle of sticky blood lightly. She stared at her bloodied fingers and sighed. Alistair could see dark circles starting to form under her beautiful blue eyes. The tip of her braid was dried with her own blood and he cringed inwardly.

"Wynne healed you, just in time, but you passed out from the loss of blood." He wanted to ask her if she had been conscious enough to hear him speak to her, or if she remembered that she'd said love... Maybe now wasn't the best time for that... She nearly died, after all. And maybe she hadn't meant to say it at all, or maybe... His train of thought was interrupted when he realized she was speaking again.

"Where are the others?"

"They went to search the rest of the floor for other survivors," Alistair replied. "We're nearly to the top of the tower now. Can you stand?" He scooted back, helping her up to her feet. She leaned on him a bit, and he was reminded of the day on the docks in Redcliffe, she had been so sleepy... was it just a few days ago when he had given her the rose? All the days seemed to melt together now. They had done so much fighting and so little of anything else...

"I think I'm okay," Serena said, putting a hand out to steady herself. "I felt a little woozy there for a moment, but... whatever Wynne did seems to be helping." She looked down at her feet, at all the blood on the ground and then up at Alistair. There was a moment pause and then she was hugging him tightly, her face buried in his neck. "Thank you... for just, always... I don't know what I would do… without you. Probably be dead five times over."

"I know, I... I nearly lost my mind there, for a second." Alistair stroked her hair absently, wishing they were anywhere else. That they didn't have to keep going, that Serena could just lay down for awhile, just to rest, before they inevitably ran into more unimaginable horrors. "I don't know what I'd do if..." He couldn't finish the sentence.

Serena pulled back from him, her blue eyes were red-rimmed. "I... we should probably... find the others." She wiped quickly at her eyes, a blush coloring her cheeks. "I want to get out of here."

* * *

><p>The corruption that began on the lower floors only worsened as their party moved up the tower. Soon everywhere Serena looked there was blood and enormous dark pustules that almost pulsed with energy. Wynne led them through the twisting hallways as they headed to the top, her brow furrowed.<p>

"Wynne? Is everything okay?" Serena paused, realizing how stupid the question sounded considering what had happened to them so far. "I mean, besides the obvious, I guess."

"We've been through countless rooms and hallways, and still we have not found Niall." The white haired mage pursed her lips. "I am worried he did not make it."

Serena nodded, not knowing what to say. She had thought they would at least come upon a body, but...

"Oh, look. Visitors. I'd entertain you but... too much effort involved."

Serena looked up at the thing speaking. A giant, monstrous thing, its body was covered in the vein-like corruption, just like the halls of the tower. At the abominations feet was a man in mage robes, blood on his face.

"Niall!" Wynne moved forward, but the monster held up a hand and she stopped, her chin dipping down to her chest.

"Do not mind him, he is just resting." The fiend glanced down with its one working eye, the other closed over with the corruption, and a noise much like a sigh escaped it. "Poor lad, he was so very, very weary. You want to join us, don't you?" The abominations voice was slow and deep, and Serena found her limbs suddenly felt so... heavy. Maybe she should just... no... wait...

"Wouldn't you like to just lay down and... forget about all this? Leave it all behind?"

"I... can't keep... eyes open." Beside her, Alistair dropped to one knee. "Someone... pinch me..."

"I'll not listen... to your lies, demon. You have no... power over me..." As she said this, Leliana fell to the ground, her eyes closing. Around her, Zevran fell to his knees while Morrigan leaned on her staff, her head swaying.

"Why do you fight?" The demon moved towards them and Serena rocked on her feet as the edges of blackness moved in. "You deserve more... You deserve a _rest_. The world will go on without you..."

* * *

><p>Serena was home. Or, it looked very much like her childhood home in Highever... the castle walls were the same, but everything had a strange blurry sheen to it, like it shimmered with some strange mist.<p>

"Serena, dear, you're up from your nap!"

Serena blinked, and suddenly her mother was standing in front of her, hugging her tightly. "You know, he's coming today to visit, or so you told me just yesterday." Her mother beamed and Serena felt a twinge in her gut. Her mother... oh... there was something...

"What are you talking about, Mother?"

"Oh, don't be silly, Serena," her mother chided. "We've been prepping the castle all day for his arrival." Eleanor Cousland tut-tutted at her daughter, towing her through the hall. Her mother babbled on, mumbling things about flower arrangements and color combinations for dinner cloths. Serena had no idea what she talking about. Was there to be a party? Why did all of this feel so strange?

"He should be here any moment."

"Who? Fergus?" Serena looked around. Was her brother here then? Had he been found? Wait... that wasn't right... Fergus had been in the Wilds and-

"Your father and I are just so pleased you _finally_ chose a suitor. Oriana and I have nearly finished setting up the engagement party. The entire castle is abuzz with excitement, and Fergus is coming home from the south just for it!"

"Engagement party? But I don't know who..."

A voice called from outside the hall and Serena felt her jaw drop in shock. She _knew_ that voice...

"Serena, my love." Alistair strode into the hall, clad in gleaming armor with the Grey Warden griffon emblazoned on the front, much like Duncan had worn when she had met him... Wait, no... Duncan? She turned, peering curiously at Alistair. He bowed politely to her mother and Serena saw he had a rose, identical to the one he had given her at Redcliffe, in his lapel. "It has been too long..."

Alistair reached her in a matter of steps, and Serena felt him gather her up in his arms, as he had done so many times before and kiss her lightly on the forehead. "Duncan requested my presence in Sothmere. A band of darkspawn had tried to raid the village there..." He shook his head. "But that's all done now, and I am yours to command."

"I have missed you," he whispered against her lips. "Tell me you received my letters?"

"Your letters? I... yes... but, Alistair? Is that truly you?" Serena touched his face carefully, not knowing what she was expecting. Everything felt so strange.

Alistair laughed. "Of course, my love. Who else would it be?" He put a hand over hers and smiled. "Are you nervous? Is it because of the party? Your mother assured me your sister-in-law would be helping out with a lot of the preparations..."

"No, it's... I thought..." Serena frowned, not knowing how to explain to him. "What's going on?"

"Dearest, we're getting _married_. Right near the harvest festival, just as you wanted. Don't tell me you've forgotten." Alistair stroked her face and she felt a chill as she looked into his hazel eyes. They were so bright, and so intense... so wholly focused on her. As if there was nothing else in the world.

"I... we're... my family is _dead_, Alistair... and you're..."

"I suppose you're going to tell me I'm dead, too?" He grinned at her, pulling her close to him. She felt her heart break as he held her, her body wanted so badly to believe him, to simply have him hold her forever. "I'm right here. I think you were dreaming, my love, a nightmare, perhaps..."

"No, no... I... this is wrong... this is the nightmare!" Serena pushed at him, unable to take the lie anymore. She felt hot tears prick at her eyes and she fought to keep them at bay. This wasn't real and she would not cry in front of this man, whoever he was. "You're not... you're not my Alistair..." The tears came then, and she ran, through the door, away from the mad creations of the Fade of her family and her love.

"Serena! Serena..." She heard him chase her through the halls and she sprinted for the armory. His voice sounded strange now, lower and more menacing. The real Alistair would _never_ speak to her like that. "Serena, come back, my love! I only want to talk!"

She pounded across the stones through the halls, until she found, at last, the right door and slipped inside. She latched the door and sunk to the ground, tears streaming down her face. She pulled a sword from the wall and held it close, waiting for what, she did not know.

"Serena, I _know_ you're in there." Alistair's voice was low, almost a growl, and Serena couldn't help the fear she felt. Her breathing was coming in gasps she could barely control. "Open up..." He beat on the door, and she backed up as the door cracked and he pushed it off its hinges with an unnatural strength.

"Hello, my love." Alistair stood tall and sinister, his sword drawn and his normally honey-brown eyes were red like fresh blood. "You know I do not care for these games of yours."

Serena held the sword, not quite used to the weight of it in her hand compared to her daggers and prepared to defend herself.

The fake Alistair eyed the sword, his red eyes eerily calm. "What do you plan to do with that, love? Strike me down?" He stepped forward and Serena felt fear clutch at her heart. "If I am gone, who will be left to love you?"

"Y-you think I need demons to love me?" Serena cried. "I don't... I don't n-need you..." She brought the sword around and it met his, as he parried the blow and set to push her off her footing. Serena remembered sparring with the real Alistair and watched his feet, preparing for a sweep.

"Don't do this, love. You could stay _here_, with me, forever. We would never want for _anything_. Don't you _want_ to be happy?" The man held out a hand to her, his sword at his side. "What is it you want? Tell me and I can grant it."

"I want _my _Alistair back and you can never give me that!" Serena yelled, slamming her own sword down. It slashed through the fake Alistair in a smooth arc and she watched as he fell to the ground, dead. Serena dropped to her knees beside him, the tears becoming a flood as around her the dream collapsed.

Looking around, Serena realized she was no longer in her parent's castle… she wasn't in _any_ castle. The landscape looked just like one of her dreams. Broken pillars, twisted trees and mist, and the Black City ever present across a sea of nothingness. A pedestal stood nearby, glowing brightly, and Serena found herself drawn to it. Touching it lightly, she felt a rush come over her, and suddenly she was... elsewhere.

* * *

><p>"Who are you? Where did you come from? Are you a demon?" A mage backed away from her, his voice wavering in pitch. Serena saw the symbol of the Circle of Magi and hope this wasn't another trick of some sort. "No… No, you're like me, aren't you? Another dreamer... Congratulations on getting out of that trap."<p>

"What do you mean? This is the Fade, right? Are we trapped here?"

"The demon traps everything that comes here in a dream it thinks they can't- or won't- try to leave."The mage sighed. He looked a lot like Jowan to her; he had the same floppy dark hair. "I'd thought I'd escaped, too, but I've been wandering these empty, grey spaces for a lifetime..."

"Is there no way out then?" Serena paused, taking in the man's appearance again. "You're... Niall, aren't you?"

"Yes... I was trying to save the Circle when I encountered the sloth demon. I expect our experiences were similar."

"So you have the Litany of Adralla, don't you? Couldn't you use that against the demon?"

"The Litany was our weapon against the blood mages' domination," Niall said, shaking his head sadly. "But it's too late. Everyone is dead... The Litany was our only hope of saving the Circle. But now... this place drains you of everything. Hope, feeling, life..."

"Well, there must be a way out, Niall. I'm sure of it. We just have to find it..." Serena looked around. "I found my way out of that nightmare... maybe we just need to... find something to fight..."

"No, there is no way out of here. I have looked. You think there might be, but you'd be wrong." Niall walked over to a pedestal identical to the one Serena had used to come to this place with. "You see this? I've studied the runes on it- runes that signify different islands of the sloth demons' domain. The sloth demon itself is on the center island, but you can't get there... the five outer islands somehow form a protective ward."

"I thought I was getting somewhere when I figured that out, and I went to each island in turn only to have my hopes dashed." The mage sighed. Serena shifted, his defeatist attitude was starting to bother her. "There's always an obstacle... you'll see the path but be unable to get to it, and it taunts you... drives you mad..."

"Could my companions be on one of the islands?" Serena asked. "And if the outer islands form a protective ward, if one were to go to them, and defeat whatever is there... couldn't that possibly allow passage to the center island to reach the sloth demon?"

"I don't know much... you may be able to reach your companions through the islands, but... each island has a... a lesser abomination on it that the sloth demon has placed there." Niall paused, his eyes rolling up to look at something Serena couldn't see. She wondered just how long he'd been here, wandering and waiting. Becoming more and more hopeless. "Defeating them may be the only way to reach the sloth demon."

"I once found a passageway smaller than my hand, with a mouse going to and fro through it. Silly thing fled before I could question it, though..."

Serena bit her lip, wondering if perhaps Niall had gone mad sitting here in the Fade. "Why would you question a mouse?"

"Because almost everyone here is a dreamer, except for the spirits and demons, I suppose." Niall pulled at his robes, his nervous fingers picking at the symbol of the Circle inscribed there. "Each dreamer may know things another may not. The mouse could have told me what lay beyond the tiny passage, or how to get there. Even how I might make myself small like him, and crawl through myself. And if one could become small enough to take one path, perhaps there are similar ways to walk the others."

"I see... So... if I search the islands, question the dreamers, maybe I can find a way out of here." Serena put a hand on the mage's shoulder, somewhat surprised to find him solid. His voice sounded so dreamy and far away. "If we work together, we can escape, I just know it."

"Nothing dampens your spirit, does it?" Niall smiled sadly. "I don't know whether to admire or pity you."

Serena shrugged, finally having enough of the mage's disheartening conversation. "Thank you for the information, Niall. I'll be back."

"Don't mind me then..." The mage wandered off past a pillar, his hands in his pockets.

Serena rolled her eyes and headed for the pedestal. Niall was right about one thing- nothing was going to dampen her spirit, not if there was something she could _do_ to get out of this mad place.

It was time to find her friends.


	35. Chapter 35

**Author's Note:** Oh, the Fade... One of the most confusing parts of the game and one of the hardest parts to put into actual words. So many things in the Fade are fantastic visuals, and it's crazy trying to translate them into an actual plot element. I hope I did it _some_ justice. Anyway, thanks to all the followers and reviewers! You guys truly are the best, and it's so great hearing that you all are enjoying the story so far!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 35<span> - _In Nightmares_

With Niall's somewhat disjointed assistance, Serena navigated the Fade, discovering other trapped dreamers who passed their skills on to her. Before long, she could transform her shape, becoming a mouse small enough to fit through tight spaces; a spirit able to pass through and see doors only visible to demons; a stone golem capable of breaking through massive metal doors. One dreamer even taught her how to ignite her body in flames so she could pass safely through the fiery passageways that cordoned off parts of the Fade from her without being burned alive. Or, well, asleep, as it were.

Serena remembered speaking to Oren about the Fade as she moved through the mists... oh, how she was thankful she knew so _little_ of it back then. She would have given him nightmares for months if she had spoken of this place. Perhaps it was due to the sloth demon, but this area was nothing like her dreams.

Templars, burning in flames, came to skewer her on their swords; mages, screaming for her blood, shot at her with spells; even darkspawn ran about the Fade, chasing her through mazes and into locked doors.

Escaped from her own nightmare, where she supposed fighting with an unknown weapon must have been part of her greatest fear, she now had her beloved daggers back at her sides, and lucky, too, for this section of the Fade was filled with terror upon terror.

Everywhere Serena went there were demons, fiery wraiths and sluggish slow-moving horrors that tried desperately to beat her down, but as she took on each new opponent, she felt her skills grow. Serena became faster, lighter, stronger; able to move and react and conquer all that came against her.

Finally, after she defeated what felt like every demon in the Fade, Serena returned to the pedestal, and felt the familiar rush as she was transported through the Fade.

* * *

><p>Serena glanced around, unsure of where she was. It looked like the area Niall had been... was he near here then? She started walking, hoping something would eventually look familiar.<p>

"Maker, forgive me. I failed them all." Wynne stood before Serena, her head in her hands. The bodies of young mages littered the ground at her feet. "They died and I did not stop it."

"Wynne? Wynne! It's me, Serena!" Serena ran forward, waving to the white haired mage. She'd never felt so glad to see a familiar face in her entire life. "Wynne, don't believe this, it's... a trick or something. The sloth demon-"

"How can I disbelieve what I see, what I hear and smell and feel?" Wynne kneeled down, touching one of the bodies lightly. "Death... can you not see it? It's all around us. Leave me to my grief. I shall bury their bones, scatter their ashes to the four winds, and mourn their passing till I too am dead."

"You have to fight this, Wynne! It's not real! We're in the Fade!" Serena wanted to shake her, to wake her up somehow.

Wynne scowled at Serena, her tone harsh. "Your blatant disregard for the souls of the dead strikes me as being utterly inappropriate." She pulled her silvery staff, raising it accusingly at Serena. "And where were you when this happened? I trusted you as an ally and you were nowhere to be found."

"Are you... you can't be serious, Wynne." Serena grabbed her staff, pushing it down. "I am the only thing here, right now, that_ is_ real! These bodies... this landscape... its all a dream! Wake up!"

"It is... difficult... to focus..." The older mage shook her head. "It feels as thought something is... stopping me from concentrating. I have never had so much trouble... Perhaps some time away will help clear my head..."

Suddenly, the dead mages began to rise. "Don't leave us, Wynne. We don't want to be alone!" Bloody tears ran from their blank eyes as they clamored towards Wynne, their hands outstretched, clawed fingers reaching for them.

"Oh, sweet Maker, this is madness..." Serena pulled her daggers, ready to combat the rising mages. "We have to defeat them, Wynne! We'll never get out, otherwise!"

"No, Wynne, stay!" Another dead mage pulled at her robes. "Do not fight it... You belong here, with us!"

"N-no, not yet. My task is not yet done..." Wynne swung her staff in an arc, a spell striking the young mages around them. The apprentices surrounded the two of them, casting weak spells and yelling. Serena cut them down as Wynne froze them. Soon enough, the last of the apprentices fell to the ground, their bodies melting into the ground.

"Is it over? Thank the Maker for you, Serena. I don't know what I was... I'm so sorry." Wynne hugged her tight and Serena was reminded of her mother's embrace from her own nightmare. "Wait... what's happening?" Serena felt Wynne's arms disappear around her, as she became less and less corporeal. "Serena...?"

Serena watched as Wynne disappeared and she was alone again. With a sigh, she walked to the now bright pedestal, touching her hand to it.

* * *

><p>"Blessed art thou who exists in the sight of the Maker. Blessed art thou who seeks His forgiveness..."<p>

Serena watched from behind a pillar as Leliana prayed at a small dais, a demon masquerading as the revered mother at Lothering was standing beside her, a sick grin on her face.

"L-Leliana?" Serena moved from behind the broken pillar and she saw the demon's eyes immediately snap to her. "Leliana! Are you all right? I've been searching for you all..."

The red haired bard looked up from her prayer, confusion written all over her face. "What? Who are you?"

"I beg you, do not disturb the girl's meditations!" The revered mother snapped at Serena.

Leliana looked between the two of them, shaking her head. "Revered Mother, I do not know this person."

"But we're friends! We met in Lothering..." Serena moved towards her, holding her hand out. "You have fought by my side, and prayed with me. You know me, Leliana, just try to remember-"

"Please, do not vex her. She needs quiet and solitude, to calm her mind and heal her heart." The revered mother's lip curled at Serena and she felt a knot of anger well up inside her. Serena marched up to the demon, rage steeling her against her fear.

"_Those who bear false witness, And work to deceive others, know this: There is but one Truth_." Serena walked up to the dais and stared down the fake Chantry leader. "_All things are known to our Maker. And He shall judge their lies_."

The revered mother's face twisted cruelly, her kind brown eyes going blood red. "If you believe that, then you are just as stupid as her," she spat, flinging a hand at Leliana. "Your Maker has left you, just as He left us!"

_"In blackest envy were the demons born_," Serena replied, her eyes narrowed at the robed woman. "I think your jealousy is showing just a bit there,_ mother_."

Serena turned to Leliana. "A true mother of the Chantry would not behave this way, you know this, Leliana. Remember why you left the cloister..."

"My vision! I... I remember now..." Leliana shook her head, backing away from the demon. "I... I don't know who you are, but you are not my revered mother..."

"No, Leliana! This is your home, your refuge! Stay, and know peace!"

"There is no need, I carry the peace of the Chantry in my heart, and with Serena, we praise the Maker every day." The bard pulled her swords as the revered mother shook with rage, its spectral image distorting as it became the demon underneath.

"No, you are ours, now and forever!" The demon wailed, grabbing at them both. Leliana swung her swords in an arc, slicing down through the demon as it screamed. Serena pulled her bow and shot it as Leliana did a delicate spin, cutting it down. The demon let out one last long yell before dissolving into the ground.

"Oh, Serena, I'm so sorry!" Leliana came and hugged her, and Serena was reminded of her reunion with Wynne. "My head feels heavy... like I've just woken up from a terrible nightmare. We should probably get going and find the others- wait, what...?" Serena watched sadly as Leliana faded before her.

"I don't know why I get my hopes up here..." Serena said crossly, heading back to the pedestal.

* * *

><p>Serena had no idea who's nightmare this was, but it was much darker than either Leliana's or Wynne's had been, and she had fought dead bodies in Wynne's dream. A cold wind blew through the depressing landscape, making Serena shiver uncontrollably. Two men stood near a torturing rack, slowly cranking it as a man laid across it, stretched far beyond it's compact frame should have allowed.<p>

"I think I saw him flinch that time," one of the men said.

"Maybe," answered the other. "We'll make you scream yet, apprentice."

"No… I wouldn't... want you to hold back." The man on the rack groaned loudly, his voice strained. "I'd be disappointed... if you... did." The man turned his head and Serena recognized the long white-blonde hair and gasped.

"This one has spirit... it's a shame we have to break him."

"Zevran?" Serena carefully moved towards the men, her hands on her daggers. "Are you... what's going on?"

The tortured elf turned, his face a mask of pain and confusion. "Serena? What... what are you doing here? You're not supposed to be... here..."

"This is a dream, Zevran!" Serena saw the two other assassins stare her down but she stood her ground. "You have to snap out of it... this isn't real!"

"I can't... I need to stay strong." Zevran closed his eyes tightly. "This is my test. I am going to be a Crow... I need to show them I can tolerate... pain."

"You're _already_ an Antivan Crow, you stupid man! That's how we met! You tried to bloody _kill _me!" Serena knew she was yelling, but she had had enough of these demented nightmares. "How can you not remember any of this?"

"Get out of it, girlie," one of the thugs yelled at her. "Or else you're going on the rack next to your boyfriend, here."

"Is this truly nothing but a bad dream? A bad memory?" Zevran pulled at his restraints and one of the assassins cranked the rack harder until he screamed. "I... I can feel it... that you... speak the truth. Serena?"

"Why, I think he's questioning us... he'll be punished for that... Severely punished." The dark haired assassin pulled two long swords and ran at Serena as Zevran pulled at his bonds, yelling and kicking.

Serena parried a blow from one of the assassins, kicking him back to the ground before running around the rack and slicing at Zevran's bonds with one of her daggers. "I am _not_ fighting your demons on my own!"

"I don't have any weapons!" Zevran rolled off the rack and kicked at one of his fake Crow brothers.

"Hand up, look here!" Serena pulled an extra dagger from her boot and tossed into his waiting hand as he spun on his heel and slammed it into the ginger haired assassin's neck. With a loud snap, he turned the man's head, kicking him to the floor.

"A fine toss, Warden," Zevran called as he flipped backwards onto his hands, kicking the second assassin in the chin.

Serena grabbed his hair from behind and pulled his head back, her dagger slicing across his throat. The man dropped at her feet and evaporated before her.

"Well, that was bracing!" The elven assassin stretched out his shoulders, handing Serena her dagger back. "There's nothing like a good racking, is there?" Zevran started walking towards her and Serena could see his body start to disappear, just as the others had done. "What are you doing? Where-"

And then he was gone.

* * *

><p>"Away! Away with you! I shall have no more of your pestering!"<p>

For once, Serena found herself relieved to hear the brusque tones of her dark haired companion. A murky version of Flemeth, Morrigan's mother, stood in front of her, glaring down at the witch berating her.

"I am your mother... do you not love me?"

"You are as much my mother as my little finger, right here, is the queen of Ferelden!" Morrigan shot back, waving her hand at the demon. "I know you, fade spirit, you cannot fool me."

"Are you more clever than you own dear mother? Surely such pride must be punished!" Flemeth brought her hand back to smack Morrigan in the face. Serena watched as the demon struck her hard across the face and Morrigan winced, her golden eyes filled with cold fury. "There! That is for not showing respect!"

Morrigan laughed, pulling her staff. "That is far more like it, but it is too little too late, spirit." She turned to Serena and waved her over. "'Tis you at last! Come, Serena, rid me of this vexatious spirit! I weary of being prodded! Kill it, and then we can be off!"

"I… you... all right!" Serena was slightly taken aback that Morrigan knew right away that this was not real, but Serena wasn't about to dawdle any longer than necessary.

She charged at the image of Flemeth and threw one of her daggers at it, sliding at the last second to slice her second dagger across its calf. The demon screamed and swung its arms about as Morrigan danced out of the way, shooting icy spells from her staff.

Serena rolled under the spell and kicked out, knocking the fake Flemeth to the ground. Leaning over, she stabbed the demon in the face as it disintegrated before her.

"'Tis about time! That was most-" Morrigan frowned, touching her middle as it quickly became vapor. "No, not this again! I refuse!"

"But... that's not fair!" Serena yelled at the green-tinged sky. "She_ knew_ it was a trick! Why don't I get to keep her?" Serena kicked angrily at one of the disturbing tree clusters in the ground, knowing the Fade pedestal had just started glowing behind her.

"I know, I know... Maker's breath, I _hate_ this place..." Serena sighed, stomping back to the pedestal and slammed her hand down onto it.

* * *

><p>After her own nightmare, Serena had begun to dread this last nightmare more and more as she moved through the Fade, releasing her other companions. Wynne's had been ghoulish, and Zevran's nightmare had been outright alarming, but after destroying her own twisted version of Alistair, she was both afraid and embarrassed to face him now. The memory of those glowing red eyes haunted her as she ambled through the Fade, searching for a sign of him.<p>

Serena shuddered as Alistair came into view. No glowing red eyes, and his armor was the same splint-mail he always wore. A woman was standing beside him, pretty, although a few years older than Serena. Was this... who was this? Surely it wasn't his mother, she was much too young. Two children were playing a card game at a table.

"Hey! It's great to see you again." Alistair waved happily as she neared him, coming to give her a hug. Serena smiled awkwardly and accepted the hug, not trusting herself enough yet to speak to him. "I was just thinking about you... isn't that a marvelous coincidence?"

Alistair beamed at her. He sounded happier and more buoyant than she'd ever heard him in real life. Who was this woman? And who did these children belong to?

"Are you going to introduce me to your friend, Alistair?" The woman smiled gently, her brown hair was perfectly set into little braids clasped around her head. Serena looked down at herself and winced, the blood and bits of demon filth clung to her leathers. She could only imagine what her face looked like, bruised and bloody.

"Oh, right. Serena... this is my sister, Goldanna." Alistair held out a hand and gestured to the woman and children. "These are her children, and there's more about... somewhere." He grinned goofily. "We're one big happy family, at long last!"

"Wow. Uh..." Serena looked around, trying not to appear rude. "You seem very... content."

"I am! I'm happier than I've been my entire life. Isn't that strange?" Alistair shook his head, smiling as if he couldn't believe his luck. "I thought being a Grey Warden would make me happy, but it didn't. This does." He put an arm around her, his voice dropping low. "And now _you're_ here, too. It just... couldn't be better."

"I'm overjoyed to have my little brother back," Goldanna gushed at the pair of them. "I'll never let him out of my sight again!"

"You... live with your sister? Here?"

"There's nothing wrong with living with my sister," Alistair replied. "I've never had a real family before."

"Well, Alistair, is your friend staying for supper?"

Alistair turned to Serena, his elated smile back in place. "Say you'll stay. Goldanna's a great cook. Maybe she'll make her mince pie." He turned to the demon posing as his long-lost sister. "You can, can't you?"

"I... I can't stay," Serena said, pushing Alistair's arm away. "I don't think you should either, Alistair. This... isn't what you think it is." She locked eyes with him, willing him to understand. "Think about this, and how you got here. Think carefully."

"All right... if it makes you happy." Alistair frowned, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "I... it's a little fuzzy, that's strange..." He shook his head, as if he could somehow clear the confusion away. "No… wait... I remember a... tower. The Circle..." His face suddenly cleared as his eyes went wide and he pulled her to him in a rush. "Oh, sweet Maker, Serena!"

"You... the demon... I couldn't-" Alistair held her close and she knew memories of their encounter with the desire demon from before were flooding back to him. "You nearly died..."

Serena pushed him lightly away, still disturbed from the fake Alistair of her own nightmare. Afraid he would grab onto her and never let go. Or worse, pull his sword on her. "Yes, that was awful... we... we can talk about it later, Alistair. We have to get out of here! We're trapped in the Fade!"

Alistair looked around, his hazel eyes confused. "The Fade? Wait, but… it feels so real-"

"Of course it's real, brother dear," Goldanna snapped. Serena saw her normally kind eyes were now the red color she remembered from her own nightmare. She backed up unconsciously from Alistair. "This woman has no idea what she's talking about! Now wash up before supper and I-"

"No, I... something doesn't... something's not right here... I think I have to go."

"C-come with me then, Alistair, hurry!" Serena beckoned to him quickly, pulling one of her daggers. Alistair cast one last glance at his 'sister' before running to Serena, his hand on his sword hilt.

"No! He is ours, and I'd rather see him _dead_ than free!" The monster rushed forward, and to Serena's horror, the children ran at them as well, brandishing fingers as sharp as knives.

"Alistair, what are you waiting for? Pull your weapon!" Serena vaulted backwards, kicking the demonic Goldanna in the face as she landed in a crouch, jamming her dagger up into the fiend's stomach.

"B-but they're... children!" Alistair fumbled with his shield, knocking the tiny spirits back tentatively.

"They're not children! _She's _not your sister! _I'm_ real, and _I'm_ being attacked!" Serena rolled away from Goldanna as she hissed furiously, clawing at Serena wherever she could reach. Serena pushed up on her arms and landed a kick to the demon's face, spinning on her heel to slice it across the neck.

Beside her she saw Alistair steel his shoulders as he whipped his long sword around and decapitated one of the children, smacking the other hard with his shield. Spinning, he drove the sword up into the small demon's middle, lifting it off the ground with the power of the thrust. Grabbing it by the scruff, he ripped the child off the end of his sword and flung him at Goldanna, knocking them both down.

"That's more like it, my prince!" Serena took the opening and charged the fake Goldanna, grabbing her and pounding her into the ground beneath her. She punched the woman in the face, all her rage at having her friends taken away over and over and being stuck in this Maker-forsaken place for so long giving her an inhuman amount of strength for her slender frame. She felt Goldanna's jaw break under her gauntleted fist, and her head fell to the side.

Serena stood, her chest heaving, as she lifted her foot and crushed the fiends' skull with the heel of her boot. "Looks like I just made mince pie out of your _face_, demon." She watched as the body quickly dissolved in front of her eyes. Alistair came to stand beside her, his eyes downcast.

"I can't believe it. How did I not see this earlier?" He shook his head, smiling crookedly at Serena. "Uh, try not to tell everyone how easily fooled I was, eh? Wait... wait..."

Serena could sense the familiar panic rise up in her as his body became intangible to her. "What's happening to me? Hey-" Serena reached out to touch his hand, just for a second, but like a ghost, it flowed right through her, and then he was gone, and she was alone. Unbidden, a single hot tear forced its way down her cheek.

Serena turned to the glowing pedestal, glowering angrily at the thing, and touched it for what she hoped was the last time.

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><p>Much of the Fade looked the same, like marshy swamp with twisted trees and downed pillars. It reminded Serena vaguely of the Kocari Wilds in the real world, if instead of darkspawn, the Wilds were infested with demons.<p>

Serena pulled her daggers and strode forward, the bloody mutated form of the sloth demon standing before her.

"What do we have here? A rebellious minion? An escaped slave?" The sloth demon chuckled and Serena had to brace herself to avoid shivering at the sound. "My, my... but you do have some gall." He flung a hand out carelessly at her. "But playtime is over, and you all need to go back now..."

"You all...?" Serena looked around, confused. Slowly the forms of her companions materialized beside her. She felt relief rush through her at the sight of them.

"You tried to keep us apart." Leliana's voice was silky and dangerous as she spoke to the sloth demon. "You led us from each other because you fear our strength as a whole, don't you?"

"If you go back quietly, I'll do better this time," the sloth demon purred. "I'll make you much happier."

Serena snorted derisively. "Oh, yes, because being chased by the man I love through the halls of my dead parents castle... that was just a jolly good time! I'd really like more of that, please."

"I made you happy and safe. I gave you peace," the demon insisted in its slow drawl. "I did my best for you and you say you want to leave?"

"Happy and safe? Tell me that is a joke! _He tried to kill me!_" Serena knew she was making a spectacle of herself in front of her companions, in front of _Alistair_, but she couldn't help herself. This demon had twisted her own subconscious, things she didn't even know she desperately wanted, against her. "I'm done with your tricks and your games!"

"You wish to battle _me_?" The sloth demon let out another demented chuckle. "So be it... you will learn to bow to your betters, mortal."

"We'll see who is bowing before whom soon enough, demon," Serena sneered. "I made some friends in the Fade, and they taught me all kinds of fun things." Without another word, Serena shook her limbs out; casting the spell the burning templar dreamer had taught her during her journey through the Fade.

Serena felt her skin tingle as flames erupted across her, and she charged the sloth demon, wrapping her fiery arms around his neck as he, too, shifted form into an enormous ogre. Clinging to him for all she was worth, she grabbed one of his horns, pulling a dagger with the other as she stabbed into his face.

The ogre howled, tossing its head side to side in an effort to push her off. Serena jumped and rolled, landing close, and put out her hands, shooting a blast of flames at the back of the ogre. It turned, trying to focus on her, but it was being pelted with spells from Morrigan, while Alistair moved around it, slicing at its knees with his sword. Wynne stood near the back, casting healing charms while Zevran and Leliana protected her from the ogre's stomping feet.

The demon roared, changing once again, this time to a fiery rage demon, flinging blasts of flames at her companions. Serena followed suit, her body going absolutely light as her spirit form took over and she shot cold spells at the fiend with Morrigan.

Once more the demon shifted, this time into an arcade horror, able to cast a multitude of spells. Serena changed back to her human form and yelled for Alistair to dispel its magic before they were all paralyzed by the abomination.

Serena paused, waiting for an opening when all of the sudden the sloth demon turned, and she sprinted at it, her daggers out. With a quick kick, she slammed into the demon, knocking it to the ground as her body landed on top of it and she plunged her daggers into its face.

Immediately, a rush of pure energy expelled from the carcass and Serena was knocked forcefully back, the Fade world shifting again as she passed out. She opened her eyes to find Niall standing above her, his normally miserable expression replaced with one of relief.

"You... defeated the demon. I... I never expected you to free yourself, to free us both." Niall held out a hand to help her up. "When you return... take the Litany of Adralla from my... body. It will protect you from the worst of the blood magic."

"Your body? What do you mean? You're coming with us!"

"I cannot go with you," Niall said sadly. "I have been here far too long. For you it will have been an afternoon's nap. Your body won't have wasted away in the real world while your spirit lay in the hands of a demon..." He sighed. "Every minute I was here, the sloth demon was feeding off of me, using my life to fuel the nightmares of this realm. There is so little of me left..."

"I was never meant to save the Circle, or... survive its troubles. I am dying. It is as simple as that." Niall closed his eyes and Serena felt her heart break to look at him. "I do not fear what may come. They say we return to the Maker in death, and that isn't such a terrible thing." He opened his eyes again and Serena could see how earnest he was.

"My only regret is I could not save the Circle. But you can... Take the Litany, it is important!" He grabbed Serena's hands. "I... I feel I must go... please, remember... the Circle is all that matters now!"

Serena nodded, clutching the mage's hands gratefully. "Thank you, Niall."

Niall smiled, his form slowly shifting and evaporating before her. "No, my friend, thank _you_."


	36. Chapter 36

**Author's Note:** So, if you've played the mage origin, you'll recognize some characters here. Ah, poor sweet s-s-stammering Cullen. In the game, he makes me infinitely sad. But, since his epilogue options and his presence in DA2 don't match up _LIKE AT ALL_, I decided to just have at it. I believe this chapter marks the end of our time in the tower, so, onward and upward! Oh, and thanks to everyone reviewing and following the story!

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><p><span>Chapter 36<span> - _Crushing Prison_

They awoke in Circle Tower, the sloth demon lying dead before them, along with the body of Niall. Serena kneeled beside the fallen mage, setting his body much as she had Dairren's, his arms crossing his chest, as if he merely laid down to sleep. Serena put two fingers to her lips, kissed them, then pressed her fingers to Niall's forehead.

"Dear Maker, know this man's heart was true, his goal was pure." Serena paused, feeling a tear slip down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. They had seen so much death in this tower, when all they wanted was to help... "Niall was a good man. Without him, many more would be dead, and I owe him my thanks. Please place him at Your side, where he may find peace in Your everlasting love. Amen."

"Thank you, dear girl," Wynne said, touching Serena's shoulder lightly. Serena could she, too, had tears in her eyes. "Niall would have wanted this."

Serena nodded, unable to say anything for fear of choking up and walked out of the room, her eyes downcast, unwilling to look at her companions for fear that they would disappear again. They moved through the tower in silence. Serena assumed the rest of her party was dealing with the emotional scars from the Fade as much as she was, her only solace being that none of them had shared _her_ nightmare.

The corrupted halls became more and more grotesque as they moved through the templar quarters, as the majority of the blood mages rage must have been focused here. They found a few dead templars, their bodies set at distorted ankles, and two injured ones that Alistair and Wynne patched up and sent downstairs.

Serena opened the door leading to what Wynne said was the Harrowing Chamber at the top of the tower when they encountered a glowing pinkish cage made of energy. A blonde templar was trapped inside, crying and praying on his knees.

"S-Solona? Is that you? I thought you had been t-taken..." The cage crackled with energy as the man stared at Serena through hazy, unfocused eyes. "Am I dead then? Or is this... is this another trick again?" The man backed up, pushing away from the cage's edge. "I know what you are! It... it won't work!" The templar fell to his knees again, his head dipping to the ground. "I will s-s-stay strong... My name is Cullen, and I am a t-templar in the Circle Tower. I am strong... I have my duty... My name is... My n-name..."

The man looked up at Serena before dropping down to the ground again in anguish. "How far must they have delved into my thoughts... Enough visions... if anything in you is human, k-kill me now and s-stop this game!"

"What game is he talking about?" Serena asked quietly. "Does he think we are visions?"

"The poor boy is exhausted... this cage..." Wynne stepped forward to examine it closely. "I've never seen anything like it."

"You broke the others, but... I will stay s-strong... for my sake... for theirs..." The templar clutched at his head, shaking uncontrollably. "Shifting through my thoughts... t-tempting me with the one thing I... I always wanted but could never have! Using my s-shame against me... my ill-advised infatuation with her..."

"A mage! Of all things!" The blonde man beat his armored fists on the ground, tears flooding down his face. "I am so t-tired of these cruel jokes! These tricks... these..." His words dissolved into sobs and Serena found herself kneeling down to him, just outside the cage.

"Please... Cullen? You... you have to believe me, I'm real... we're real..." She put her hand against the cage and felt a strange buzzing as the energy of it rolled over her. "Please... I think you should... just calm down..."

"I am beyond c-c-caring what you think, Solona... The Maker knows my s-sin, and I pray that He will forgive me!"

"The Maker knows all our sins, Ser Cullen. What have you done? Why... why are you in this cage?"

"When you k-knew me, I was an innocent... I wanted to be a knight, but I never really thought about why we were n-needed... I was naive... but no longer!" The templar stood, pulling at his hair as he paced the cage. "You are a mage! And I am a templar! Why... why couldn't you ever understand that we... we cannot be together?"

Alistair kneeled down next to Serena, his hazel eyes were dark with an emotion Serena could not read. "Oh, Maker... I think... this man thinks you are a mage he had... a relationship with. This Solona, whoever she is."

"You... you aren't real... you can't be real... Oh, Maker, I am sorry... I should n-never have loved you..." The templar kept pacing, back and forth, his chest heaving. "I have brought this down upon me with my s-s-sin..."

"Cullen? Please, are you... please, listen to me." Serena stood, beckoning the wild templar back to her. "The Maker loves all his Children, and He wants us to be happy, please... don't do this to yourself. To love someone is not a sin in the Maker's eyes. _You did not bring this on yourself_."

The man turned, looking at Serena with eyes blurry with tears. "Please, help me, Solona... I'm sorry, I... please... I feel like I am losing my mind..."

"I will help you... I... I promise. Where is Uldred? We must stop him."

"They are in the Harrowing c-chamber... I thought you were there, too... I saw them t-take you. The sounds coming up from there... They tried to drive me crazy... the demons told me they were t-torturing you..." The templar dissolved into a fit of wracking sobs again. "Oh, Maker... I could hear your screams..."

"We must hurry," Wynne said. "They are in grave danger, I am sure of it."

"You can't save them! You don't know what they've b-become! They're b-blood mages, Solona! Their wicked fingers snake into your mind and c-corrupt your thoughts... Please, Solona, don't leave me in here! Please! The visions-"

"Cullen, I will be back for you, I promise. Please, stay safe." Serena touched the cage and felt the almost electrical shock rush over her again. This man looked so hopeless, so exhausted...

"I love you, Solona, I do... _Please_..." The poor blonde templar ran his hand along the cage to Serena's, and shivered. "I l-love you..."

Serena bit her lip, unsure if she should continue his belief in this woman, whoever she was. "I love you, too, Cullen. Please, just rest. I'll come back for you." The templar nodded, laying down on the ground to wait, curled up in as tight a ball as his thick armor would allow.

Alistair watched as Serena stood up from the cage and felt more than a slight pang of jealousy in his chest. 'I love you, too, Cullen.' How easily had the words spilled from her lips? And to this man she didn't even _know_... Alistair dropped his eyes, his concentration momentarily wavering as he felt a rush of emotions, wondering if he would ever hear those words directed towards him.

He remembered, vaguely, her shout to the sloth demon in the Fade... 'Chased by the man I love'... had that been about him? Or some other man? Someone from her past perhaps? He admitted to himself he hadn't really ever asked her about any past men in her life. She was so beautiful, so unendingly _good_, surely there must have been some... The thoughts plagued him as he followed her retreating back.

Serena led the way up the stairs to the Harrowing chamber, her eyes still on the templar rocking unsteadily in the cage below. Alistair came to stand beside her, his hand on the hilt of his sword and Serena could see him frown.

"That was... are you sure you should have done that?" His eyes were on the templar lying in the cage below them. "What if that woman is dead?"

"I don't know, Alistair. He was in such pain... I couldn't just leave him with nothing." Serena glanced at him, unable to look him directly in the eye. "I wouldn't want to be trapped like that, thinking of the person I loved being tortured..."

Alistair sighed. "I know... I suppose I would want that hope, too, if it were me..."

They pushed open the door to the Harrowing chamber to the sound of screams. The bright light of multiple spells glowed around the room, as a group of hooded mages casted in the center. Serena felt her hair stand up as the electrical charge of the magic washed over them.

A young mage stood in the middle of the circle of hooded figures, screaming and writhing in pain. A bald man that Serena recognized as the bossy mage from the meeting with the King and Loghain back in Ostagar was leaning over the boy, gripping his chin tightly in his hand.

"Do you accept the gift that I offer?" the bald man asked, his voice distorted. Without waiting for a reply, he dropped the boy to the ground where he collapsed in a heap. Serena could see a line of mages, including an old man in important looking robes who had to be Irving, sitting along the sides of the room, bound by their hands and feet.

"Uldred..." Wynne hissed, as the man in question signaled to two mutated abominations and began to cast on the young man. His body convulsed and grew, his shoulders exploding out into the massive twisted form of the demons beside him. Serena felt her heart freeze as the changed mage stood, looking very much like the sloth demon, and wailed at them.

"Ah, look what we have here. An intruder..." Uldred's distorted voice cooed at Serena. "I bid you welcome. Care to join in our... revels?" He held up a hand, and the crackling energy of magic formed in a ball there. "I'm quite impressed you're still alive. Unfortunately, that must mean you killed my servants."

"Ah, well, they are probably better off dying in the service of their betters than living with the terrible responsibility of independence." Uldred shrugged, his eyes gleaming dangerously at them.

"You are turning these people into abominations!" Serena yelled. "How could you-!"

The bald man cackled, as if she had just told him a hilarious joke. "And freeing them in the process! A mage is but the larval form of something _greater_. Your Chantry vilifies us, calls us abominations, when we have truly reached our full potential!" Uldred gestured angrily to the bound mages. "Look at them. The Chantry has them convinced. They deny themselves the pleasure of becoming something _glorious_!"

"You're mad!" Wynne cried. "There is nothing glorious about what you've become, Uldred!"

"Uldred? He is gone. I am Uldred and yet not Uldred. I am more than he was." He smirked, his voice becoming maddeningly calm. "I could give you this gift, Wynne. You and all the mages. It would be so much easier if you just accepted it." He turned to one of the demons standing beside him. "Some people can be so stubborn."

Serena felt like throwing something at his gleaming bald head. "I'm glad so many of them stood up to you, you disgusting filth!"

"And what good did that do? I still _won_." the mage replied icily. "I even have the first enchanter on my side, don't I... Irving?"

"Stop him... he... is building an army." Irving gasped, his breathing coming in short wheezes. "He will... destroy the templars and-"

"You're a sly little fox, Irving, telling on me like that. And here I thought he was starting to turn."

"N-never!" Irving panted, falling back.

"That's enough out of you," Uldred snapped. "He'll serve me, eventually. As will _you_... I'd kill you, but that would be such a waste." He strolled up to Serena and sneered. "Your raw potential, with the strength of a demon behind it, would be unstoppable. I can do that- I can give you power, and a new life."

"As tempting as that sounds, I'm going to have to pass." Serena pulled her daggers. "I've really just had it up to here today with blood mages and demons and being beat up every which way."

"Well, I don't think your opinion matters," Uldred replied testily. "This is what I've decided, and that is what will be done. Fight, if you must. It will just make my victory all the sweeter." Without another word, the mage threw his hands down and transformed into a giant demon, larger than an ogre, and covered in sharp purple-black scales.

Serena and her companions spread out across the tower, Serena shouting orders to each of them in turn. "Zevran, protect the mages, we can't have him hurt any more of them!" The elven assassin nodded, sprinting across the room and bringing his blades across to slice clean through one of the abominations on his way.

Beside her, Alistair slammed his shield into another demon, his sword driving deep in its middle as he battled his way to Uldred. Morrigan swung her staff, bashing another lesser shade as a blast of freezing ice struck it from her hand. Downing those opponents, she ran at another cluster of demons, shifting into a wolf in mid-jump to rip into them with razor-sharp claws and teeth.

Leliana kept pace at Serena's side, swinging her dual swords in rapid circles as she jumped from foe to foe, knocking them back and slicing them down. Serena could feel Wynne's healing magic working to knit her various cuts and burns up as she cut her way across the room next to Leliana.

The enormous Uldred demon bellowed at the pair of them, and Serena turned to the bard. "Take my bow and cover me!" She pulled it from her back and tossed it with her quiver to Leliana as she sprinted at the demon, daggers out. Leliana nodded, peppering the colossal beast with arrows as she circled it swiftly.

Serena moved fast, sliding between the demon's giant legs and slicing across its knees with her blades. From her left, Morrigan howled, her jaws dripping with blood and launched her wolf body at the demon's back, holding tight with her teeth. The Uldred demon screamed and flailed, trying to pull the wolf from its back with its own sharp claws.

Alistair appeared beside her, and Serena grabbed him, pointing at Uldred. "Throw me!" The former templar looked at her, completely lost, until she smacked him. "Do it! Now!" Nodding once, he flung his shield at an oncoming demon and lifted her easily, swinging her up onto the demon.

Serena felt her body push through the air as she landed on Uldred, driving her daggers deep into the demon's skull with a frenzied scream. The demon rocked on its feet as one of Leliana's arrows landed in its eye, and Serena kicked off, flipping back to the ground as Uldred dropped.

"Let us make sure he is truly gone," Morrigan said, back in her human form. She placed her hands on the demon's head and a ball of flame erupted into its face, scorching the scaly flesh. Serena grinned at the witch, kicking the demon with her boot for good measure.

Behind them, Zevran was already working to untie the mages, cutting their bonds with his blade. "They got a bit roughed up," the elf said, shrugging. "I believe that man tortured them for quite a while before we got here."

Serena kneeled at the mage's side, helping them up. Most of the mages had bruises forming on their faces, and looked as if they hadn't slept in days.

"Irving! Are you all right?" Wynne was assisting the elderly bearded man to his feet.

"I've... been better," the man grumbled. "But I am thankful to be alive. I suppose that is your doing, isn't it, Wynne? And your fine companions here..." He nodded to Serena and the rest. "Thank you all. The Circle owes a debt we will never be able to repay."

Serena glanced around, taking stock of the casualties. Most of the mages could stand on their own, and Alistair was supporting a dark haired girl about Serena's age as Wynne healed her leg. Alistair caught her eye and waved her over.

"This is Solona," he said quietly. Serena felt her eyebrows raise in surprise as she took in the girl before her. Indeed, she could now understand the templars confusion. This girl, if one didn't look closely, could have easily passed as Serena's double. They both had long dark hair and light eyes, although Solona's were a pale green, like the sea.

"H-hello, I... I don't know how to thank you all." The woman eyed Serena closely, and she could tell by her expression she was surprised to see someone who looked so like her. "They... they had us up here for... for days it felt like. They _tortured_ us..."

"I know, I'm so sorry. I wish we had known... we could have..." Serena put a hand on the mage's shoulder and squeezed it gently. "I... don't know how to explain this, but there's a man, a templar, downstairs. He was asking for you. He was... very worried about you."

"Cullen? Oh, I...I mean..." Solona glanced around quickly, tense. "I... don't know him. I mean, he's just a friend."

"It's all right, dear lady," said Alistair gently. His eyes found Serena's and she nodded. "We won't say anything. You should know... he cares for you very much."

"Yes, I... I know. He's a good man," Solona replied solemnly. She tested her foot, putting pressure on it. "I think I can walk now. Thank you again, both of you. I don't know if I can ever... thank you enough."

"Come, the templars await," Irving called. "We shall let them know that the tower is once again ours." Zevran stood next to him, helping the man walk. "I will need you all to guide me down the stairs. Ah, curse whoever insisted the Circle be housed in a _tower_..."

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><p>A larger group than Serena had been expecting was waiting down on the first floor for them, mages and templars alike, all huddled by the barrier, looking frightened and exhausted. When their company showed, the mages cheered at the sight of first enchanter Irving and their fellows, and many of the templars stood to welcome Ser Cullen back.<p>

"We had thought you dead, brother," one of the templars said, patting Cullen on the back. "It's so good to see you made it through." Cullen nodded to the man then turned, catching Serena's eye quickly. She saw him smile weakly, then his eyes flipped to the battered mage that looked so much like her, Solona. He turned back to Serena, mouthing a silent "thank you" before he went to join his brothers.

"Yes, we all owe these people our lives," the first enchanter said, gesturing to Serena and her companions. "Without them, Uldred and his abominations may have taken all of us by force."

As Wynne brought the barrier down and they came out into the main hall, they saw knight-commander Greagoir sprint towards them, waving. "Irving? Maker's breath, I did not expect to see you alive!" The burly man had relief etched all over his face as he took in the sight of many of his rescued templars and mage charges.

"It is over, Greagoir," Irving said tiredly. "Uldred is dead." He sighed, putting a hand on the shoulder of one of the younger mages. "We will rebuild. The Circle will go on, and we will learn from this tragedy, and be strengthened by it." Beside him, many of the mages were nodding in agreement, and Serena was surprised to see templars too, were bowing their head in respect to the first enchanter.

"I will accept your assurance, Irving, that all is well." The knight commander smiled at Serena, bowing his head. "It would seem we have won back the tower. I must say thank you. You have proven yourself a friend of the Circle, and the templars."

"Yes, ser, thank you," Serena replied, curtsying awkwardly to both men. Her shoulder still felt stiff from her encounter with the desire demon. "I... I have a request, if I may."

Irving nodded. "Of course, dear girl, anything. The Circle owes you more than we could ever hope to repay."

"There is a child, possessed by a demon in the Fade, that we need help with." Serena bit her lip, not sure if she should mention the blood mage. "One of your Circle mages, an apostate named Jowan, he is at Redcliffe castle, helping them hold the boy until we could return with more mages. He said we could try a ritual to enter the Fade, to challenge the demon without harming the boy."

"Yes, I know of what ritual he speaks." Irving signaled to some of the mages and nodded. "I will gather a group of my people, and we shall meet you at Redcliffe Castle in two days time. It is the least we can do, after you all have done so much for us."

"Thank you, first enchanter, this means... this means a lot to us." Serena curtsied again, relief washing over her in waves. "We shall see you in two days."

"Before we go, Irving, I have a request of my own." Wynne looked into the older man's eyes. "I seek leave to follow the Grey Wardens to help them in fighting the Blight."

"Wynne... we need you here. The Circle _needs_ you." Irving frowned, his eyebrows knitting together.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Irving, but the Circle will do fine without me, the Circle has you." Wynne smiled, looking to Serena. "This woman is brave, and good, and capable of great things. If she will accept my help, I wish to try to help her accomplish her goals."

Serena looked to the first enchanter and then back to Wynne. "I... of course. I would be honored to have you join us, Wynne." Behind her, she could hear Morrigan sigh.

"Ah, you were never one to stay in the tower when there was adventure to be had elsewhere." Irving sighed. "I give you leave to follow the Grey Warden, but know that you always have a place here." He glanced at Greagoir, nodding. "There is much to be done here before we leave for Redcliffe, so I must go. I will see you, young lady, in two days time."

"Yes, thank you, again," Serena replied, giving the old man a little wave. She turned to her companions, now one party member stronger, and smiled.


	37. Chapter 37

**Author's Note:** Thanks for everyone reviewing and following! I can't tell you how amazing it is to see so many people enjoying the story.

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><p><span>Chapter 37<span> - _Two Pendents, Two Families_

The trip back from the Circle tower was strange for Alistair. They had emerged from the Tower at nearly midday, having fought the entire night and most of the morning. Zevran and Alistair had offered to ride the horses so the women could sleep in Bodahn's wagon for a few hours. He had protected Serena, Leliana, and the others well enough that Alistair thought perhaps he should give him a chance, and he had found himself surprised at the relatively pleasant, if not occasionally awkward, conversation he had with the elven assassin. Zevran was full of stories from his life with the Crows, and his experiences all over Thedas.

"I know we haven't know each other very long, but... would you mind if I asked you a personal question?"

Zevran grinned at the Grey Warden. "You may ask, but I may choose not to answer."

"Fair enough," Alistair replied. He trotted his horse closer so he wouldn't have to speak loudly. Maker only knew how his face would flare red if any of their female companions heard him asking this. "Have you... err, _had_, very many women in your time?" He blushed, trying to rephrase the question. "I mean, you seem like the sort of man who would-"

"I have indulged, from time to time, yes," Zevran interjected. "Perhaps when my interest is not... elsewhere."

"Right," Alistair said with a nod. "Well, how do you... woo them? Is there a... technique or... do you just... have at it...?"

The elven assassin threw back his head and laughed. "_Woo_ them? Are you serious?"

"I... yes. I don't quite know what else to call it. You see..." Alistair could feel his face redden again as he tried to explain.

Zevran put up a hand, stopping him. "So let me get this straight. You have never wooed? Not once? You are... woo-less, as it were? Perhaps I am mistaken, but I had assumed you were... otherwise occupied... with your fellow Grey Warden? Is this untrue?"

"Serena and I are close..." Alistair paused, unsure of what to say to the man about his relationship with her. "I don't know. Why? Did she say something to you about it?"

"I simply thought her mention of sparring was some Grey Warden code for sex," the elf replied, shrugging. "Tell me you were not actually out in the woods beating each other up with all your clothes still _on_?" Zevran laughed; as if this was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "She is the one you intend to... woo, then?"

"Yes, uh, well... it's complicated," Alistair said lamely.

"My dear friend, Alistair... trust me when I say, at the base of every relationship, it is delightfully uncomplicated. She appears to care for you, even with that haircut." He laughed again as Alistair frowned, putting a hand to his head. "Wooing, as you call it, is as simple as knowing that a woman is interested in you, and having the confidence to take her to bed, or what have you." The assassin shrugged. "Serena is a very strong, capable girl. Women like that appreciate a man who can lead, especially when it comes to sex."

"I wasn't asking about _that_, specifically... just, well..." Alistair smiled crookedly at the elf. "Thanks, Zevran."

"Certainly, my friend."

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><p>They made good time back to Redcliffe Castle, arriving just after the mages and their templar guards, who they found out traveled straight across the lake by enchanted boats. Among the mages the first enchanter brought with him, Serena was surprised to see her doppelganger, the mage Solona. She found herself wondering absently if she had patched things up with Ser Cullen yet.<p>

Upon entering the main hall, Irving waved her over, smiling broadly like a proud grandfather. "Ah, there you are. We have brought lyrium, and begun preparations for the ritual. We can start whenever you are ready."

Serena looked to her companions, motioning to Morrigan. "I... don't really want to ask you to do this Morrigan, but..." She lowered her voice. "Out of everyone, you were the only one who realized in the Fade you were speaking to a demon. Wynne is very..."

"Preachy?" Morrigan supplied, smirking.

Serena bit her lip on a smile. "Err, a bit, yes, but she took a lot of convincing in the Fade, that she wasn't, you know, talking to a bunch of dead apprentices. I'd rather send someone I know I don't have to worry about." Serena hoped appealing to her sense of pride would ease the transition.

"While I_ loathe_ going back into that dreadful place, 'tis unavoidable, since you seem to be correct in that I am the only one capable of coming back in one piece." The witch rolled her golden eyes and Serena smiled, knowing she was secretly pleased at being told she was the best for the job.

"Right, well, that's settled." She turned back to the first enchanter. "I think we are ready. Morrigan will be going into the Fade, to deal with the demon."

Irving nodded. "Then let us begin forthwith. This may... take a few hours, depending on the type of demon she encounters in the Fade."

Serena nodded, going to stand back with Alistair and the others as Wynne and Jowan joined the other mages in a circle. Morrigan stood in the middle, looking haughty and bored, while the mages linked hands and began to chant. Almost immediately, Morrigan seemed to go sleepy, her eyes closing and she slumped to the floor.

"She's... going to be all right, isn't she?" Serena whispered.

"Her tenacity alone will keep her safe in the Fade, Serena," Leliana answered quietly. "I have never met someone so... strong-willed before."

Alistair snorted. "That's putting it lightly."

They watched the ritual for the better part of an hour before Serena's companions started to wander off to do other things. Noticing she was alone with Alistair in the hall, Serena felt her heartbeat pick up. She hadn't talked to him one-on-one since their time in the Fade, and she still felt generally awkward around him, unable to shake her own nightmare. He seemed to sense her restlessness, because he put a hand on her arm, and tugged her along after him.

"Where...?"

"Just wait and see," Alistair replied. He paused, looking around, and then pulled her into a side room. Serena glanced around. It was a library. Or, at least someone's study. Books lined the walls floor to ceiling, and there was a large desk in the middle of the room.

"I was thinking about it, about you, really, and how you keep a journal... with your drawings. I... wanted to show you this," Alistair said, gesturing to the wall of books. Serena felt a grin tug at her lips as she moved to one of the bookcases, scanning the titles.

"_Creatures of the Wilds_, _Antiva: The Politics of Blood_, _Uncharted Lands of the South_, _Journal of the Tranquil_, oh goodness, I bet that's both creepy _and_ tedious... _The Search for the True Prophet_... Maker, the arl has a... wide variety of books." Serena pulled one of the tomes and looked at the cover. "Ohhh, _A History of Ferelden Kings_."

"Oh, don't read that," Alistair said, coming to stand beside her. "That just sounds boring."

"Pfft, _boring_? That could be _you_ one day, you know. King Alistair." Serena put the book back, pulling down _Creatures of the Wilds _instead and heading to one of the small couches. "Assuming we don't all die trying to destroy the archdemon, of course."

"Oh, of course." Alistair slumped down onto couch beside her and snorted. "Can you honestly imagine a scenario where it would be a good idea to put _me _on the throne?"

"I'd put ten-year-old you on the throne before I'd put Loghain and his shrew of a daughter," Serena replied, pulling out her journal. "_You're_ kind, and considerate… you look out for your companions, even the ones you don't particularly like, and you care about your country. I can't say any of those things about either of them."

"Not a fan of my late half-brother's wife, are you?" Alistair's eyebrows raised curiously. "Do you two have... history?"

Serena sighed, flipping the pages absently. Drawings of creatures, and a few of her companions, littered the pages of the journal. "You could say that, I suppose. Anora has almost 12 years on me and, to her, I'm a child. I'll _always_ be a child. Until I'm covered in wrinkles and using a cane to bash in darkspawn skulls, I will _always_ be her lesser. And all because she caught me twirling around in a dress once when I was five." Serena sighed heavily. "I was _five_..."

"Anyway. She's... nice enough, when she wants something, which is often, and obviously she's a capable enough ruler. I imagine Cailan married her because she's pretty and smart and he didn't know any better." Serena looked up into Alistair's eyes, frowning slightly. "I guess the best I can say is she is her father's daughter, through and through."

"Oh," Alistair said. Serena knew that would get what she wanted across, what she couldn't explain in words. She saw a shadow pass over Alistair's face as memories of Ostagar washed to the surface. "What do you think will happen then? If Loghain tries to formally take the throne?"

"Well, you heard Bann Teagan... the Bannorn is what_ really_ holds the power in Ferelden." Serena paused, gathering her thoughts to explain it properly. "From what I understand, our monarchy isn't really like the rest of Thedas... it's not based on blood." She patted Alistair's hand lightly. "I mean, blood helps, King Calenhad united the country, so Theirin blood matters to a great deal of people, but it's not_ necessary_ to secure the throne if the freeholders, people like Teagan, Arl Eamon, my... my father... If they support a candidate for the throne, blood or not, they can take it. That's why we have the Landsmeet."

"And if they don't support a candidate who plans on taking the throne? What then?"

"Then we risk civil war, I suppose," Serena answered. "That's why Loghain... I think that's why he was trying to get the Circle on his side; it was how King Calenhad originally took the throne. And why he sent the Crows after us. He knows the Grey Wardens, and anyone else who survived Ostagar, are aware of what he did to the king. With us out of the way, he'd only have to get a few banns on his side... he already has that snake, Howe, and he's probably parading around calling himself a _teyrn_ now." Serena shook her head, her cheeks flaring with anger.

Now unable to relax, Serena stood, pacing the room. "I... I still can't _believe_ it... that man... the nerve... to think he could just... ugh. If I could just get my hands on him..." She felt Alistair come to stand behind her, his hand moving to rest on her hip. Serena wished she could just lean into his embrace, but the memories of the Fade, more like scars now really, made her feel stiff around him. She put her hands on the arl's desk, her body fighting with itself at his touch.

"Serena... I... I just wanted-" His fingers lightly pressed against her skin and she felt her breath quicken. She searched the desk for something to distract him, anything. She just couldn't do this now, as badly as a large part of her wanted to touch him... Oh, Maker...

"D-d-did you see this?" Serena interrupted, moving out of his embrace and picking up a necklace from the top of the desk. "Oh, it looks like... it's seen better days." She felt Alistair turn beside her and his eyes went wide.

"Wait, that's..." He held the amulet in his hand, rubbing a thumb over the symbol of Andraste on the front. The locket looked like it had been shattered and then pain-stakingly repaired. "This is my mother's amulet."

Serena felt her jaw drop. "The... one that... broke? Why is it _here_?"

"The arl must have... found the amulet after I threw it at the wall," Alistair said softly. "He had... come to the monastery, to give it to me, and I... I was angry. I felt like a cast off, and didn't want anything he had to offer me, so I threw it at the wall and walked out." Alistair looked up at Serena and his hazel eyes were intense. "I can't believe you found this. I... thought I'd lost it to my own stupidity."

"I'm sure he meant you to have it, when he... woke up, you know. It looks like it took a long time to repair." Serena took the amulet from him and gently placed it around his neck so it hung next to his Grey Warden pendent. "Now you have both your families with you wherever you go. Arl Eamon, your mother, and us."

"I... I don't know what to say, Serena. I just..." Alistair pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her in a quick hug. "This means so much... _thank you_. I mean it."

Serena smiled, not sure what to say. "I... I'm just glad you have a piece of your childhood back. It's always bothered me, how you don't really have any memories of your mother... I've thought about it a lot, anyway, since that day we were sitting by the river..." Serena blushed. "I guess we've sat by a lot of rivers by now, haven't we?"

"You mean back in Ostagar, after the, err... tent... incident." Alistair's cheeks reddened at the memory, but he smiled. "Did you remember me mentioning it? I... wow. I'm more used to people not really listening when I go on about things."

"Of course I remembered," Serena said, pushing him lightly in the chest. "You're my best friend. You're..." She paused, blushing again. Maker, why couldn't she control her face around this man? "You know you mean a lot to me."

"So… is this the part where the music starts and we begin dancing? Because I'm game." Alistair grinned, playfully looking around. "Where's the minstrels?"

"No minstrels here, just mages." Serena smiled, the lump of nerves that had formed in her stomach since her nightmare felt like it was finally starting to unwind a bit. "We should probably head back, actually. I want to be there when Morrigan returns." And maybe talk to Solona, too, Serena added silently, heading out the door.

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><p>With Morrigan back safely from the Fade, although certainly more irritable for it, Serena and her companions quickly met up with Bann Teagan and Lady Isolde to discuss their options on dealing with the arl, who while no longer in an enchanted sleep from the demon, was still comatose from Jowan's poisoning.<p>

Connor sat nearby, peacefully reading a book, his mannerisms back in sync with those of a young child. Lady Isolde was loath to let him out of her sight, now that he was no longer possessed. Serena couldn't help but smile when she looked at him reading, he reminded her so much of little Oren, copying lines from the Chant of Light back in Highever castle.

"I wanted to thank you all, for your assistance," Bann Teagan said, inclining his head to their group. "Connor is his old self, and he does not seem to remember anything, which is a blessing. I suppose we will need to send him to the Circle of Magi's tower for... training, once the war is over. It's so odd to think of the boy as a mage, of all things."

"First Enchanter Irving is a good man, I'm positive he'll receive an excellent education there," Serena replied. "Perhaps since Redcliffe isn't so far from the tower, you would be able to visit him often. Knight-Commander Greagoir is not... a completely unreasonable man."

"Yes, that would be good for me and Eamon..." Lady Isolde said, her eyes gazing on her only son as he read.

The bann nodded. "Eamon has much to mourn and rebuild, should he recover. But at least he can be thankful that both his son and wife are safe. There is, however, still the matter of Jowan. His poisoning of Eamon began this whole mess, yet he lives. We will hold him for Eamon to decide his fate. If he doesn't recover, Jowan's fate is sealed. What do you think, my lady?"

Serena paused, thinking about the dark haired mage. "I think he should be sent back to the Circle, if the arl can find it in his heart to offer him mercy. Jowan is a malificar, but at the same time, he was also manipulated into poisoning the arl, he did not set out to do it himself. And without him, we may not have even known of another way to help Connor. I think if anyone deserves the arl's vengeance, it is Loghain."

"Yes, there are... extenuating circumstances regarding him, I suppose. I shall have the mage imprisoned again, for now." Teagan glanced over at his brother, lying peaceful on the large bed. "I fear our task is not done yet, though. We are still unable to wake Eamon-"

"The Urn! The Urn of Sacred Ashes will save Eamon," Lady Isolde said suddenly. She turned to Serena. "You must find Brother Genitivi- he is a Chantry scholar in Denerim. He's been researching the Urn's location for several years now. The knights that returned say that they were unable to find him, but perhaps the Maker will lead you to him. After everything you have been able to do, He must show you His favor."

Serena ignored Isolde's blasphemy of her being favored by the Maker. It did not bode well to believe such things over one's own skills. "Then we shall travel to Denerim, to seek out this scholar," Serena answered quietly. "I must ask, though, would it be all right if we rested here for a day or two first? My companions and I have been traveling for weeks now, and to sleep in actual beds would be a welcome comfort to us all."

"Of course, I apologize, I should have offered... you must excuse my manners." Lady Isolde flushed. "We have rooms upstairs you all may use. Stay as long as you need."

Serena curtsied to the woman, thanking her for the hospitality. Serena led her companions out of the arl's room and up the stairs to the rooms Lady Isolde had mentioned. They divided up into different rooms, each looking pleased to not have to sleep on the cold ground for a few days.

At last it was simply Morrigan and Serena left in the hall, and Serena had a feeling the mage had planned it this way.

"I... would like to discuss something with you, if you have a moment," the dark haired witch said. "In my room, if you please." Serena followed Morrigan into the small, but wonderfully decorated, guest room.

"As I am sure you noticed, there was a range of books in the office of the first enchanter in that dreadful tower. One of the tomes happened to be a grimoire of my mother's. Taken, years ago, I saw it and… well, regardless, I have been studying it."

"That's the book you were reading in Bodahn's wagon, I take it?"

"Yes. I had hoped for a collection of her spells, a map of the power that she commands." Morrigan frowned; her golden eyes hooded with an emotion Serena couldn't quite read. "But this is not it."

"So, what is it?" Serena sat down in one of the plush chairs sitting behind the door. "You look... disturbed."

"Disturbed? Yes, perhaps that _is_ the right word." The dark haired witch sighed, sitting down on the canopy bed. "One thing in particular within her writings _disturbs_ me." She pulled the thick black book from her knapsack; opening it to a section she had marked with a bit of ribbon. "Here, in great detail, Flemeth explains the means by which she has survived the centuries."

"Ooh, really? Is it... an immortality spell or something?" Serena bit her lip. "Never mind, I suppose they don't have those, otherwise there would be mages wandering around at 100 years old..."

"If 'twere only that simple," Morrigan replied sullenly. "Flemeth has raised many daughters over her long lifetime. There are stories of these many Witches of the Wilds throughout Chasind legend, yet I have never seen a one and always wondered why not."

"And now I know." Morrigan looked up, her golden eyes intense. "They are all _Flemeth_."

"What?" Serena blinked. "But… you just said... _oh_... oh, Maker..."

"When her body becomes old and wizened, she raises a daughter," Morrigan explained. "And when the time is right, she takes her daughter's body for her own. This tome... details... the various daughters that Flemeth has... acquired. Their preparation and training."

Serena felt horror creep up inside her at the thought of the old woman raising a daughter simply to steal her life for her own. "Are... are you in it?"

"Only briefly," Morrigan replied curtly. "The tome was taken by templars years ago, before she began training me in earnest. But I recognize all of it. I... am to be her next host. _This_ is my purpose."

"So why would she risk sending you with _us_?"

"I don't know. Perhaps 'tis as she said; the darkspawn threaten her as much as they threaten anyone else. Or perhaps she believes that this journey will make me more powerful." Morrigan looked down at the book in her lap, her nails tapping a dark rhythm into its pages. "According to the tome, if the... host... is already powerful and trained in magic, it takes less time for Flemeth to... settle in."

"Wow." Serena had no idea what to say to the woman. "Your own _mother_... I... I'm sorry, Morrigan."

"Do not be _sorry_, Serena," Morrigan snapped. "I am not. I am_ angry_." The witch straightened her shoulders, pushing the thick volume onto the bedspread. "There is only one possible response to this. Flemeth needs to die."

Serena didn't reply. She simply stared in shock.

"I will not sit about like an empty sack waiting to be filled," the witch continued, her eyes practically shooting sparks. "Flemeth must be slain and I need your help to do it."

"M-my help?" Serena sputtered. "Why do you need my help? You're... a lot stronger than I am."

"While I value your opinion of my skills, I fear if she is slain while I am near, I am not certain that... she will not simply be able to take possession of me right there. So obviously_ I_ cannot be the one to do it." Morrigan pursed her lips; her golden eyes wholly focused on Serena's own blue ones. "You must go to her hut in the Kocari Wilds, I will make you a map if you need."

"Confront her and slay her quickly. I doubt she will truly be dead, even then, but it will take her years to find a new host and recover her power... if that is even possible."

"Alright, I... I cannot _believe_ I am agreeing to this," Serena said slowly. "I must have lost my bloody mind." She sighed. "Can I... can I let anyone know?"

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "I suppose you want to tell the fool templar, don't you?"

"Well, your mother_ is_ a very powerful mage, it's not like he wouldn't be helpful." Serena picked at the lacing on her breastplate absently. "Does Sten know?"

"No, I haven't had the chance to speak with the qunari since we returned. I was busy saving an obnoxious little child in the Fade. Surely you remember."

"Are you going to tell him...?"

"Possibly." Morrigan eyed her warily. "What is it you want to ask?"

Serena grinned. "Are you two... you know…?"

"Are you and the talking toadstool... you know?" Morrigan taunted.

"He's not a toadstool. He's lovely." Serena giggled. "That's quite good, though. Talking toadstool."

"As I was saying before we started down this ridiculous line of questioning," Morrigan said, rolling her eyes. "The thing I must have is her _true_ grimoire. With it, I can defend against her power in the future. Everything else in her hut is yours."

"Right, so, murder your mother, steal her spell book, is there anything else you require? Perhaps I should kill a dragon and make a necklace of its teeth whilst I'm down there? I know how you like jewelry. That is... assuming we're not devoured by _darkspawn_, of course. Or eaten by wolves... Wow, I am finding so much wrong with this plan already..."

"I know what I ask is... ambitious, to say the least, but I know not what else to do." Morrigan's normally fierce golden eyes went soft. "You are... the closest I have ever had to a friend, Serena. Know that I am grateful for this."

Serena stood from the chair, smiling gently at the witch. "Of course I know we're friends. Why do you think I even agreed to this mad quest in the first place?"


	38. Chapter 38

**Author's Note:** Whew, so after all the battles and demons and out-and-out crazy, our intrepid heroes finally get a little time to themselves. This chapter has a bit of naughtiness in it, nothing too crazy, but I thought I'd warn you all, just in case! As always, thank you all for the reviews and for following along, you're all so great and amazing! A round of internet high fives, on me. :D

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><p><span>Chapter 38<span> - _Rest and Relaxation_

Redcliffe Castle was a welcome relief to Serena and her companions for the few days they spent recouping after the incident at the Circle of Magi. Although she was still recovering from her time in the Fade, Serena found spending time in the arl's study, copying his maps of Ferelden into her journal, helped stave off some of the anxiety. Between the call of the archdemon in her dreams, and the remnants of her nightmare in the Fade, she had quite enough to be getting on with, not to mention the addition of Morrigan's... family troubles.

When not in the study, Serena found herself drawn to the enormous castle kitchen. The cook there, a wonderful man named Alban, loved Serena and Alistair's tremendous Grey Warden appetites. Feeling a twinge in her stomach, Serena had headed to the kitchen only to find Leliana there, getting a snack from the kind and portly head cook. She noticed Leliana had a dress similiar in cut to her own, both borrowed from the arlessa. Infinititely grateful, the woman had offered them a multitude of beautiful Orlesian dresses to wear while the castle's staff was washing their own blood-splattered clothes.

"This is why I miss Val Royeaux," Leliana said, tapping a delicate shoe on the kitchen stool. Serena sat down next to her at the large kitchen table and the cook grinned, already preparing something for her. "Surely you must have had some beautiful shoes back in Highever? One can't mingle with nobility with bad shoes."

"Oh, yes," Serena sighed. "It felt like I had a pair for every day of the week. Plus dancing shoes, of course." She glanced down at her knee boots, the only pair of footwear she'd been able to take from her home, and then only because she happened to be wearing them at the time. The delicate lace hemline of her borrowed frock touched just above her knee as she sat. "These do alright, I suppose. Although I wish we didn't traipse through so much mud, I would wear the ribbons that run through the side stitching here. It dresses them up quite a bit." She smiled as Alban placed a plate of food in front of her.

"Yes, those clunky fur-lined Ferelden boots are certainly... sturdy," Leliana relented. "But sometimes a girl just wants to have pretty feet." She picked at one of the pickle chips on her plate, bitting into it delicately. "You know, since we are headed to Denerim, there is a marvelous shop in the Market District- Madam Lendorin's- she sells the most fantastic shoes..." Leliana sighed dreamily. "She might even carry some boots, maybe with ribbons or ties."

Serena clapped her hands happily. This was why she loved Leliana; the bard had an uncanny ability to make Serena always forget the stress of her Grey Warden responsibilities. "Oh, that would be wonderful. It's been ages since I've been in Denerim to shop, I went once with my mother and she bought me the most beautiful dress, little flowers the exact color of my eyes..." She turned her head at the sound of footsteps.

"Wynne! Did you want a sandwich or something? Alban here is magnificent, he can make anything, I'm convinced." Serena grinned at the cook, popping another baby carrot in her mouth.

"No, no, that's quite all right, I didn't come here to eat," Wynne replied, smiling softly to both the young women. She settled into a seat at the table across from them, her hands folded gently in front of her. "I actually had a few questions for you, Serena."

"Oh?" Serena exchanged quick looks with Leliana. "What about?"

"I've simply noticed... you and Alistair... you're... quite taken with each other, aren't you?"

Wiser than Serena, Leliana quickly picked up her plate and scrambled out of her chair. "I just remembered, I promised Zevran I would... help him. With his shoes. Excuse me." With a sympathetic look to Serena, the bard practically ran out of the kitchen.

"I... you know about me and Alistair?" Serena said carefully.

Wynne chuckled. "It's hard not to notice the doe-eyed looks he gives you, especially when he thinks no one's watching. It's almost too sweet for my tastes, and I'm an old lady who should be making lace hearts and fuzzy blankets with animal motifs."

"I don't think you're really that kind of old lady, Wynne," Serena replied with a wink.

"No, I won't be making socks with pom-poms for you anytime soon, but that's hardly my point." Wynne pursed her lips; her ice blue eyes earnest. "I've noticed your blossoming relationship, and I wanted to ask you where you thought it was going."

"I... don't know," Serena admitted. "I haven't really discussed it with him at any length. We both sort of... agreed... whatever happens, happens. The Blight, and now Arl Eamon, those are what really matter, anyway."

"Well, Alistair is a fine lad, skilled in battle, but quite inexperienced when it comes to affairs of the heart. I would hate to see him get hurt." Wynne tapped the table delicately.

"What about me?" Serena frowned. "You're not concerned about _me_ getting hurt? He's a prince, you know, Maric's only surviving son. If anyone is in a position to be devastated here, it's _me_... Do you really think I haven't thought about what that could eventually mean?"

"I am aware of his parentage from Bann Teagan. I simply mean you are both Grey Wardens, and he is the son of a king. You have responsibilities that supersede your personal desires. The fate of Ferelden may rest of your shoulders..."

"Yes, well, that would be true if I were some sort of an automaton, rather than a human being..." Serena rolled her eyes, looking down at her plate in distaste. She noticed Alban had disappeared as well, so it was just her and Wynne. Fantastic. "I have emotions, _we_ have emotions... We're not just Grey Wardens, we're... we're _people_. I... I think you're making things sound more dire than it is."

"The entire Blight depends on you two. You are the last two Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden... You may be forced to choose, between saving him and saving everyone else, and then what would you do?"

"Alistair is… No, I can... I can save everyone, then," Serena pouted. She knew she was being childish, and Wynne's motherly tone did nothing to improve it. "I mean, what am I supposed to do? Tell Alistair to go away? I can't do that!"

Wynne frowned. "You may have to, to save one or both of you unnecessary anguish later on."

"No," Serena said firmly. "Absolutely not."

"A bit of hurt feelings now will save you a lot of heartache down the road," Wynne reiterated. "If you've honestly thought about what his future could be, then why do you continue this?"

"Because I love him!" Serena hadn't meant to just blurt it out in a rush, but now that she had, she realized the truth behind her words. "I love him so much, Wynne. Some days, he's... he's the only thing that keeps me going." Serena felt a tear slip down her cheek and she angrily wiped it away. "I need him."

"Love is ultimately selfish. It demands that one be devoted to a single person. This is exactly what I..." The older mage sighed; as if she knew what she said would do no good. "A Grey Warden cannot afford to be selfish, Serena. Surely you see the truth in what I'm saying."

Serena frowned, picking at the contents of her plate, her appetite all but disappeared.

"I know you think I'm young, that... that we're both young. But I can handle my responsibilities and my relationships, Wynne. I... I know what's at stake here." Serena glared at the mage, her blue eyes a mixture of anger and resentment. "I refuse to give up my one source of comfort when it feels like the entire world is crumbling at our feet."

Wynne shrugged, frowning. "I have given my advice. Do with it what you will."

Without another word, Serena picked up her plate and left the room, and Wynne, behind.

* * *

><p>Serena stomped her way through the halls of Redcliffe castle, nearly incensed at the nerve of Wynne's questioning of her relationship. Her words had struck a chord inside Serena, and she wished she had been able to articulate better her feelings for Alistair, how they made a better team <em>together<em>. Apart, she would just be another bumbling nobody... or even worse, dead with all the others at Ostagar...

"She's lived in that bloody tower her whole life probably," Serena grumbled angrily. "The Maker only knows what kind of relationship advice she should be expounding upon people- ooof!"

Serena turned the corner and collided hard with the man, falling back onto her bottom with a small whimper. "Oh, oww... I'm... so sorry, I wasn't even watching-" She looked up into Alistair's kind hazel eyes and flushed. Of course she would run into him directly after... _that_. "Hi."

"Hi." Alistair kneeled down beside her, pulling the plate from her hand. He brushed the bits of food off her, offering her a hand up. "I thought I heard your voice around the corner... I just didn't realize you'd be right there. Is your... are you okay?"

Serena sighed, straightening out her dress. "It's my fault, I wasn't paying attention."

Alistair looked down at the bits of what was formerly Serena's snack. "I could make you a new... whatever this was, if you'd like? The kitchen's just over-"

"No! No, it's... it's fine. I'm not hungry!" Serena lowered her voice. "_Wynne_ is probably still in there."

Alistair arched an eyebrow. "Did she do something?"

"I... well... she didn't _do_ anything so much as _said_... lots of things." Serena felt her face redden as she nervously tugged at her braid.

"I see," Alistair replied with a knowing nod. "You got the talk, too, then?" He sighed. "She ambushed me last night. I was... well, I was going to see you, actually..." Alistair blushed, his eyes suddenly finding the hallway wallpaper infinitely interesting. "She just appeared out of nowhere, asking all these questions... about you and me..."

Serena rocked anxiously on her heels, her nerves getting the better of her. "And what did you say?"

"What did _you_ say?"

"I... may have blurted out some... things," Serena said elusively. She glanced up at Alistair's face. "So... why were you coming to see me?"

"Oh, you're going to laugh." Alistair blushed again, and Serena could feel the knot in her stomach loosen at his bashfulness.

"After that talk with Wynne, I could _use_ a laugh." Serena tugged him into a room she was pretty sure was the guest room he was staying in. The familiar scent of pine confirmed it, and Serena plunked down onto his unmade bed, her frilly dress splayed out around her.

"You know, I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of seeing you in a proper dress until last night at dinner." Alistair set the plate down on his dresser and settled next to Serena on the bed.

"Oh, Lady Isolde let us borrow some of her old things while we're here. She's having our clothes cleaned and mended." Serena ran a hand over the smooth fabric. "I haven't really had the chance to dress up at all since we've been on the road so much. It's not very practical, I suppose... Do... do you like it?"

"You're breathtaking," Alistair answered, his eyes flicking up to hers after following along the neckline of the dress. "Of course, I'm a bit biased... I'd find you gorgeous in a potato sack."

Serena felt a rush of pleasure color her cheeks at the compliment. _This_ was her Alistair, the slightly awkward but infinitely adorable man she had grown to love over the past weeks. Perhaps all she needed was to spend more time with him, alone, to rid the surviving images of that demonic version...

"You don't look half bad, either, outside your armor." Serena fingered the brass buttons on the elegant tunic he wore, not quite ready to look into his steady hazel eyes. "Who knew you cleaned up so well?"

"Let me tell you, having a proper bathroom, and a mirror to shave in…" Alistair sighed happily. "I'll be utterly depressed to go back to shaving my face in some river, praying to the Maker I don't slice open my own throat."

"I knew there was something different," Serena said, stroking his cheek gently. His skin was smooth to the touch and she found herself longing to kiss it. "So... what did you tell her?"

"Hmm?" Alistair blinked. "Oh, Wynne? Ah. Well, she said as a Grey Warden I should be focused on the Blight, not what type of nightgown you wore to bed."

Serena giggled. "Is that why you were coming to see me at night?"

"Guilty as charged, I'm afraid." Alistair smiled. "You just looked so lovely at dinner in that greenish dress with all the lacing... I was curious if that extended to your nightgown as well."

Serena arched an eyebrow. "Who said I even _wear_ a nightgown to bed?"

"Oh...?" Alistair flushed, but Serena could see his determination to continue this line of thought. "And what _do_ you wear to bed, my lady?"

"Aw, that would be _telling_." Serena leaned close, whispering in his ear. She ran her hand through his dark blonde hair, savoring the soft feel of it against her fingers. He smelled so good, and looked even better... "You'll just have to come and find out sometime, no?"

"Is that an invitation?" Alistair caught her chin, his lips dangerously close to hers. Serena felt her stomach flutter with anticipation.

"Oh, let's just say I have an open door policy when it comes to handsome princes." Serena pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt him pull her onto his lap, his hands running up her bare thighs, as he kissed her back. At last they pulled apart, both flushed from the lack of oxygen.

"I told her no," Alistair said, his arms around her hips as he looked steadily into her blue eyes. "That after everything we've been through... we deserve a bit of happiness." He paused; his hazel eyes had the same passionate look he got when he was being absolutely serious with her. "What did you say?"

"My relationship with you is... separate from any responsibilities we have to the Grey Wardens." Serena kissed his nose lightly. "I'm a better fighter, a stronger person, with you in my life. Why would I just give that up? Why _should_ I?" She traced the line of his jaw with one finger. "You smell delicious, by the way."

"You _taste_ delicious," Alistair replied, pulling her in for another kiss. His hand was snaking its way back up her thigh as they kissed, both completely lost in the pleasure of the moment as a quick series of knocks came from the door.

Alistair groaned. "Ignore it," he whispered against her lips. "They'll go away."

"What if it's important?" Serena whispered back, kissing his ear and down his neck.

"It can't be very important, its nearly dinner..." Alistair groaned again, this time for a very different reason. "Serena..."

"Hmm? Too much?" Serena shifted on his lap, pressing against him harder. "Is _this_ better?"

"Sweet Maker, you're _evil_," he whispered to her, picking her up and flipping her over onto his bed.

Serena stretched out, knowing how good her body looked in the tight dress. "I think you _like_ bad girls, your highness." She pulled him down on top of her, enjoying the pressure his weight put on her own body as they sunk into the mattress slightly. "It must be your chantry education." She kissed his lips, pressing his hands on her body. "It makes you crave the wicked."

"Oh... You do _horrible_ things to me, woman." Alistair's voice was almost a growl in her ear as she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. "I love it." He pulled the shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. Leaning down, he kissed her passionately into the mess of sheets, their bodies naturally finding the perfect rhythm. "We could..."

A second knock, louder and more insistent this time sounded on the wooden door. "Ser? Are you there?"

Serena scowled, sliding out from under Alistair. "I'll take care of this." She flicked at her dress, not really caring what she looked like at the moment, and marched to the door, throwing it open.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice sulky.

One of the arlessa's maids stood at the door, a large bundle of clothing in her hands. Her small brown eyes took in Serena and she frowned. "I... I was t-told this was Ser Alistair's room," she stuttered.

"Yes, it is." Serena smiled at the maid, holding the door open a little wider so Alistair was just visible, hoping her meaning was clear. "Did you _need_ something?"

"No, my lady, I simply came to deliver his pressed wash. I, uh..."

"Oh, excellent. I'll take those from you," Serena said happily. The maid all but tossed the clothes into her waiting hands.

"The arlessa says dinner will be ready within the hour..." The maid peered in the doorway finally and saw Alistair shirtless on the bed, her face blushing a deep crimson. "I... oh, I apologize, my lady. I had _no_ idea."

"Yes, well... next time we'll put a sign on the door or something more obvious." Serena grinned. "Thank you for delivering these, anyway."

The maid nodded quickly, her face still scarlet, and scurried away down the hall in a rush.

Serena turned back into the room, shutting the door with her foot. "Well, you'll be pleased to know we were so cruelly interrupted because of an urgent need to deliver some _laundry_." She tossed the bundle onto the dresser and climbed back up onto the bed. "Oh, and dinner will be ready in…" She checked the clock on the wall and rolled her eyes. "Fifteen minutes. _Fantastic_."

Alistair cursed, leaning his head back on the pillows. "Why? Why is it _always_ something? I swear, every time I get a single _second _alone with you, someone has to come along with some stupid..." He sighed, cutting himself off. "It's just not fair."

"No, it's not." Serena curled up next to him, her fingers making little spirals on his bare chest. The Grey Warden pendent on his chest reflected softly in the light coming from his bedside lantern. "This is nice, too, though."

"Yes..." Alistair ran his hand up to hers, intertwining their fingers. "We leave for Denerim tomorrow, right?"

"Bright and early, I'm afraid, in case you were thinking of staying up late..." Serena snuggled against him, the buzzing in her blood making her feel lazy and relaxed. "Why?"

"We haven't really discussed it, but I was wondering... you know when we were trapped in the Fade?"

Serena stiffened. "I... yes. W-what a-about it?"

"I know that wasn't really my sister, err, half-sister, but it got me thinking and I was hoping we could... maybe... visit her? I looked it up awhile ago, she lives in Denerim, near the Market District."

Serena sighed in relief. She had thought he was going to ask her about her nightmare... she still hadn't had the courage to tell him anything about it. "Oh, of course. I'm sure we can make time to find her." Serena squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"I'd love it if you'd come with me," Alistair said quietly. She could feel his heartbeat quicken under their clasped hands. "I've never... actually... _met_ her before."

"Oh! Right." Serena turned on her side, giving him a soft kiss. "I'd love to meet her."

Alistair grinned at her, relief etched into his features. "...Have I told you how amazing you are?"

"Not today," Serena murmured. Alistair pulled her onto his lap and she giggled, pressing a finger to his waiting lips. "I don't want to start something we can't finish, my prince."

Alistair pouted, his lips kissing the tips of her fingers. "I know... you're right..." He groaned, pushing himself up so her legs straddled around his waist. "It doesn't mean I have to like it, though."

Serena nuzzled his neck, wishing that maid had never knocked on the door. "I can think of something you _will_ like," Serena whispered, kissing just below his ear. "Since we only have a few minutes..." She pushed him back down into the pillows and grinned.

* * *

><p>Dinner that evening was a quieter affair than the night before, with Serena and her companions requesting to eat in a side room, so as not to disturb the normal activities of the castle, since they would be leaving so soon. Serena glanced around at the group they'd accumulated, each person at the table bringing their own individual strengths to the party.<p>

Leliana was telling a story to Wynne, her graceful hands gesturing excitedly as she spoke. Before dinner, Wynne had apologized to Serena for upsetting her earlier, although not for her opinions on the matter, and since Wynne had seemed sincere in her want to support her, Serena let it slide, giving the older woman a hug.

Morrigan spoke to Sten down at the other end of the table, her golden eyes wide and almost flirtatious. Serena found herself desperately wishing she could make out what they were discussing, if only to tease the mage later on for it. Serena thought it almost ironic that the dark haired witch seemed most at ease around the one companion she had yet to really warm up to. Sten's imposing figure aside, he was just not easy to get to know. She wondered if it was a qunari thing, or just his own personality that made him stand apart from the rest.

Serena sat beside Alistair, as usual. Like her de facto appointment to leader of their little band, her companions also left a space next to Alistair for her to sit, no matter where they happened to be. Zevran sat on her other side at the head of the table, half-heartedly listening to Leliana's tale of an Orlesian knight named Aveline. Below her, Peanut was curled up in a ball under the table, waiting for scraps and occasionally pawing Serena's foot for attention.

"So, Serena, I ran into something interesting this evening whilst strolling the castle." Zevran cut into his roasted chicken carefully, and Serena found herself surprised at the assassin's impeccable manners. "Well, more of a _someone_, actually."

"Oh, really? Who?" Serena paused, curious what he could be talking about.

"A maid, actually." Serena saw Zevran eye her and she willed her face to not go red.

"Ah, yes. Brown hair, brown eyes? I met her." Serena smirked, glancing at Alistair. "Briefly."

"I wonder what you may have done to frighten the girl so thoroughly." Zevran grinned at her, his amber eyes flicking between Serena and Alistair. "She is really quite lucky she ran into me. I am well-versed in the art of... soothing women."

"I bet," Alistair said. "Sounds like we did you a favor then, Zevran."

"Ah, so there was a 'we' involved then? She had babbled about upsetting a young lady and her half naked man slave."

"Man slave? She didn't _really_ say that, did she?" Serena giggled. "It's her own fault, you know. Obviously if someone is disinclined to answer a door, it's for good reason. I mean, how thick can you be?" Serena shook her head sadly. "And over_ laundry_, of all things."

"I can only imagine what her innocent eyes saw," Zevran intoned gravely. "Granted, it was probably nothing compared to what she ended up doing with me..." He grinned, and Serena found herself shaking silently with laughter. "Ah, it's these country girls, I tell you. You'd think they had never met a good-looking assassin before... They practically throw themselves at me."

"You are a menace," Serena giggled, her cheeks red from laughing. "It's a good thing we're leaving in the morning, before you have half the castle's staff with child."

"I know, I am terrible," Zevran replied with a laugh. "We are heading to the capital, yes? I had heard from our beautiful bard here that one of the Grey Warden treaties you two are seeking is with the Dalish elves. Have you thought about possibly contacting them on the way? Your Imperial Highway should pass the Brecilian Forest on our way to Denerim."

"That's... a really good idea, actually," Serena said thoughtfully. She glanced down the table at the huge qunari. "I know _some_ people would be pleased we were doing something related to the Blight, instead of... what did Morrigan call it?"

"Hunting for the location of a religious nutcase," Alistair supplied, jamming his fork into his potatoes. "Of course, she'd be the authority on _mad people_, considering her mother lives in the bloody swamp and all..." Down the table Morrigan raised an eyebrow at him, as if daring him to speak to her directly. Serena placed a hand on his, cutting off Alistair's retort.

"So, I think I was saying that was a good idea," Serena said, rolling her eyes. "I don't really know how to go about contacting them, though. They're... nomads, for the most part, right?"

Zevran grinned. "Oh, I imagine if we wander close enough, their hunters will find _us_, surely."

"Then we'll just make a little side trip into the forest, get a quick signature from their..." She turned to Zevran. "Do you know much about elven culture? I don't think I know what they call their leaders?"

"I know little enough of the Dalish than the fact that my mother was one," Zevran replied. "Or so I was told. She had fallen in love with a woodcutter and accompanied him back to the city, leaving her clan behind for good. And there, of course, the woodcutter died of some filthy disease and my mother was forced into prostitution to pay off his debts. Oldest tale in the book."

"Oh my goodness, that's horrible!" Serena exclaimed.

"Is it? It seemed normal enough a tale growing up, no different than the other elven boys in the whorehouse." Zevran shrugged. "I didn't know my mother, either, of course. She died giving birth to me. My first victim, as it were." Serena felt her jaw drop at his statement. "We were all raised communally by the whores. It was a happy enough existence, ignoring the occasional beating, until eventually I was sold to the Crows. I brought a good price, so I hear."

"I... I don't understand how you can be so... so..._ blasé_ about it," Serena replied. "Maker..." She felt Alistair squeeze her leg comfortingly under the table.

"Surely your life has not been so idyllic? People like us are not the product of happy lives of contentment, after all." Zevran popped a biscuit in his mouth, as if they were discussing inclement weather conditions. Serena found herself wishing she could compartmentalize her emotions half as well as the assassin appeared to. "I know of Alistair and Leliana's parentage, but what of you, sweet lady Warden?"

"You don't need to answer that, Serena," Alistair said quietly.

"No, it's… okay. He has the right to know." Serena frowned, shaking her head. "I'm originally from Highever. My parents were... murdered, a few weeks ago, by a rival noble family... along with the rest of my family and the castle staff. I was the only one able to escape the carnage. The Warden-Commander, Duncan, helped me get out, and in return for his kindness, I became a Grey Warden." Serena pushed her food around on her plate, she could feel some of her other companions eyes on her, and heard Wynne gasp softly. Despite the pang in her chest at the mention of her family and former home, it felt good to lay it all out on the table. "So... I guess you're right... we're all just a delightful bunch of orphans and cast offs."

Serena shrugged, determined to not dip back into a sour mood after all that befell them at the tower. "Well, goodness. This dinner turned depressing, didn't it? Whose up for a round or five of Wicked Grace before bed?"

"Since you are so good at it, Serena, might I suggest we play for clothing tonight?" Zevran asked innocently. One thing she found infinitely refreshing about the assassin was his ability to make light of a dour situation. She found herself grinning at the elf and Alistair.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" said Alistair with a laugh.

"Oh, I imagine you'd like it, too, my friend," Zevran replied, winking an amber eye at Alistair. "So, what do you say? What is a little bare skin between friends? Perhaps it will even improve your game, since I doubt you want to play naked, no?"

"What if we played two on two, then?" Leliana said, joining their conversation as one of the kitchen attendants came in to clear their plates. Serena noticed Wynne and the others were scooting their chairs out to leave. "I will play with Serena, so she at least has a fighting chance of keeping some clothing on."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Leli," Serena replied, rolling her eyes again. "Am I _really_ that bad?"

"Yes," all three of her companions responded in unison.

Serena sighed. "Maybe I should go get a hat or scarf too, then..."


	39. Chapter 39

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone reviewing and following along. I can't tell you all how exciting it is to see people really enjoying the story and the characters and everything. Oh! And as a side note, this chapter will have a companion piece to it, a one-shot called _Honeysuckle & Pine_. It's rated M, for more intense naughty bits and will cover a bit of Alistair's perspective from this chapter. It's not necessary to read it to continue on with _Tricking the Past_, though, it's just a little something extra!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 39<span> - _River Dreams_

Serena regretted ever admitting to Alistair she was terrible at cards, and regretted more her inability to say no to a game. Unable to back down from a challenge, she had lost every hand to him and Zevran both the night before as Leliana giggled, playing her lute nearby. Unwilling to play strip cards anymore after the night at Redcliffe, where even with Leliana's help, she had still ended up in her tunic and small clothes at the table, she had bet them their chore load, and as a result her chore list had doubled in size.

She heaved the sack of dirty clothes downstream from their makeshift camp, setting up a line to hang them on to dry. Dumping the load unceremoniously onto the ground, she started shifting through the mess, sorting tunics, breeches and underclothes into neat piles.

"This is going to take an hour, at least," she groaned, pulling a clump of tunics towards her and kneeling at the streams edge. She glanced up at the sky, thinking she had maybe an hour or more before full dark was on her.

At least she could use this time to do some thinking. The last few days had been... disconcerting, to say the least. Unbidden, her memories from the Fade had resurfaced painfully two nights previous, causing her to nearly cry out in her sleep. Waking at Alistair's side had only upset her confused mind more, and she had ended up running out of the tent in a rush, tears streaming down her face, her breathing coming in rasps, nearly ready to lose her dinner out onto the grass.

It had been a nightmare, that much she was sure. The sloth demon laughing at her as the demonic version of Alistair merged with the one she had worked so hard to find in the Fade. He taunted her, as the desire demon had, with her love for him. And then the red eyed Alistair had come at her, sword in hand, his voice horribly distorted.

_"If I am gone, who will be left to love you?"_

Serena sighed, thinking once again about her conversation with Oren about demons. "They cannot escape the Fade on their own, so they try to make deals..." she had told him.

His earnest little face was burned in her mind. "What kind of deals? What do the demons want?" What _didn't_ they want? Serena thought mercilessly. She had been emotionally tortured by her own hopeless desires in the Fade. The Sloth demon had nearly succeeded in trapping her and her friends there forever, where they would be slowly drained until... until they ended up just like Niall.

She could have easily guessed that one of her hearts deepest desires had been to make her parents proud. Just seeing her mother again in the Fade, although she knew it wasn't real, had filled her with such an ache... her mother had been so excited...

"He's just lovely, Serena, really," Eleanor had gushed, holding Serena's hands tightly in her own. That was one of the things that had gotten her the most... her mother had _felt_ real. Eleanor had held her hands, and Serena could have just started crying right there, her longing was so complete. Her mother had been a shock, but she was nothing compared to when Alistair, or what she thought was Alistair, had strode through the door.

The rose, just like the one he had given her; the whispered yearnings in her ear; his gentle touch on her hair. All of it felt just the same, until she saw his eyes. The eyes were something the sloth demon could never duplicate, never even hope to reproduce for her, and that was when she had known, without a doubt.

And though his hazel eyes were _almost_ the same honey brown, never had they looked at her in such a way. True, she had seen them filled with concern, with warmth, even with a touch of longing or dark with desire, but never so full of love and complete and utter devotion. Never had they been so sure of themselves, so confidant. That was when she knew, knew for sure, that this was an Alistair, but not _her_ Alistair, not yet, possibly not ever.

And so she had pulled away, pushing his arms off her, knowing she may never have this again, that he may never be able to be hers... not completely, not with the Blight and everything else looming over their heads... that it may never be anything but a dream...

"I... we're... my family is dead, Alistair... and you're... you're not my Alistair..." Even in her dream, she had not been able to suppress her tears as she crumbled beside his fallen form, his death feeling _real_ to her. Her heart fracturing into sharp pieces at the sight of his broken body...

Serena shook her head, realizing she had been cleaning the same shirt for too long and was likely to give it holes. She hung it up on the line and pulled another, beating it against the underwater rocks.

Because of her nightmare in the Fade, and then her episode two nights ago, Serena had been awkward around the real Alistair ever since. He obviously knew something was up with her; everytime they were alone, which was admittedly not often since they'd been moving steadily towards the Brecilian Forest, she just clammed up as the Alistair from her dream intermingled with the real one in front of her.

But oh, how she missed their easy camaraderie from back in the castle, their flirtatious back-and-forth... and more than anything, she missed her friend and confidante. She missed the one man who understood her so well, who complimented her like... like they were always meant to be together.

Perhaps if she just sat him down and explained the truth? Surely he would understand. She had found him in his own nightmare within the Fade, hopelessly pining for a sister, for a family he had never known. But his dream hadn't involved her... while hers had basically _revolved_ around him... She could feel her cheeks reddening in embarrassment at just the thought of it.

"Doesn't look like you've gotten very far into that pile, oh mistress of our dirty unmentionables..."

Serena started at the sound of Alistair's voice, dropping the shirt she was washing into the stream. "Oh, Maker have mercy, I am a klutz today!" Serena huffed, splashing into the water to chase after the shirt.

"Do you need help?" Alistair called, removing his boots and wading into the river beside her.

"I... no, I'm..." She pushed further into the cool water, grateful for something to do other than bumble around the object of her most recent thoughts. "I've got it, now..." She grabbed the shirt and balled it in her hands. The water was still pretty low at this point, reaching almost to her knees. She turned to move back up stream and then he was there, right in front of her.

"Everything alright?" His voice was casual, but she could see his eyes were searching her face, willing her to open up to him. He pulled the ball of shirt from her hands and tossed it onto the bank. "You've been avoiding me."

"I... I haven't... exactly," Serena sputtered. How in the Maker's name did he always seem to just _know_? Was she so obviously transparent?

"So, what did I do?" Alistair put a hand on her waist, touching her lightly. "This isn't about losing at cards, is it?"

"No! What? No." Serena sighed. "I... it's not you."

"Because I could easily be convinced to let you win... occasionally." He grinned at her, but it faltered quickly when he saw she wouldn't look him in the eye. "Serena... tell me what's wrong." Alistair put a hand under her chin and brought it up, his hazel eyes boring into hers. "I thought we promised we'd be honest with each other after the whole... prince thing. No more secrets."

"I know," she whispered. "But... it's just _so_ embarrassing." She sighed again, closing her eyes. "When we were in the Circle Tower... the Sloth demon... he... I... my nightmare... oh, sweet Maker, how do I even explain this?"

"I would use the King's Tongue," Alistair answered, smiling gently. "It's the language I know best." Serena pushed at his chest, but he tugged her closer. "Tell me."

"B-before I came to find you, I was t-trapped. In my own dream." Serena gulped, trying to find the right words. "You... were in it."

Alistair's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this. "I was? Was I handsome?" He ran a wet hand over her shoulder and she found herself shivering at his touch. It felt like it had been weeks since they'd be close like this, although she had awoken happily at his side just the other day. "Did I... sweep you off your feet?"

"Yes, actually," Serena replied, her face reddening. "That's exactly what you did." She turned away from him, her hands crossing protectively over her chest. "Or you tried to, anyway. But I knew it _wasn't_ you, and you eventually became this... monster demon thing and chased me around my parent's castle... I ran to the armory to get away... and I had to kill you with a sword. And then I cried. It felt like I cried forever over your dead body... Goodness, why does this hurt?"

She sighed, her body was remembering the fear and loss she'd felt when she'd realized it wasn't real. That none of it was real. The emotions were so intense she couldn't even face him as she spoke. "I wanted it to really be you _so badly_... I was a mess... and now I'm just... so _embarrassed_ I lost control like that. It was ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous," Alistair said softly. He turned her around, pulling her arms out of their defensive position. He slipped one of his hands around hers. "I knew there was something wrong, from the Fade, but I didn't want to ask you about it because... I thought maybe there was someone else... you said to the sloth demon you were chased, by the man you... love... I didn't want to risk the chance... that it wasn't me." He paused, his thoughts coming too quickly. "So... it was... so you...?"

Serena nodded miserably, her head ducked in humiliation.

Alistair smiled, squeezing her hands. "I knew we had something, but I guess I just... didn't know you could... I didn't know that you would ever feel that same way... about me."

Serena looked up into his face, her blue eyes clear. "How could you not know? I... I'm practically crazy for you." She felt her face flush but she refused to back down. She'd laid her cards on the table, so to speak, and it was now or never.

"Then I am the luckiest man in the world." Alistair put a gentle hand on her cheek and leaned down, and Serena tipped her head up to meet his lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pushed up on her toes, intensifying the kiss, her mouth demanding his.

His lips felt warm against hers as he slid his other hand under her, lifting her closer to him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, both of them kissing desperately now, overtaken with the sheer joy of physical contact. His hair, his skin... she was overwhelmed with the scent of pine, the scent of _him_. Serena had never wanted anything so much in her life.

"I should have said something sooner-" he murmured against her lips. "I've known I... I should have..."

"I should have... oh, but it doesn't matter now, just kiss me," she whispered back as he picked her up, kissing her cheeks, her forehead, anything he could reach. She felt him carry her back onto the bank where they fell into the grass, their hands all over each other, grasping, kissing, touching anywhere there was open skin.

"Alistair..." Serena tipped her head back as he kissed down her neck to the area just above her tunic. The buzzing in her blood was intense, everywhere he touched her felt like fire. She looked up into his honey brown eyes, her hands holding his face, praying he could see how serious she was. "I love you, Alistair... I.. I want you to know that."

"I love you, too, Serena. Ever since I stayed with you, that first night... in Ostagar... I just knew. I knew you were the one." He kissed her lips, knowing that he was babbling but not caring in the least. "I know we haven't known each other very long, and maybe... I don't know, maybe this is too soon, but... every time I'm around you, I feel as if my head's about to explode. I can't think straight..."

"Just being around you makes me crazy, but I can't... I can't imagine being without you, not ever." He looked down into her eyes, willing her to understand what he was trying to say. "I just... I don't know how to say this another way."

"It's okay, just... just tell me." Serena kissed his lips, her fingers in his dark blonde hair. "You can tell me _anything_," she whispered.

"I... I want to spend the night with you. Tonight. I... maybe it's too fast, but I love you, and this feels _right_ to me." He ran a hand down her cheek, pushing her dark auburn hair away, loving the soft feel of it between his fingers. Sweet Maker, she smelled so _good_... "I wanted to wait for the perfect time, the perfect place... but when will it be perfect? If things were, we wouldn't have even met."

"We sort of... stumbled into each other, and despite this being the least perfect time, I still found myself falling for you... more and more every day, in between all the fighting and... everything else." Alistair pulled her close, his eyes steady, despite his stuttered declaration. "I don't want to wait anymore. I've... I've never done this before. You know that. But I want it to be with you."

"Tonight?" Serena felt an electric thrill go through her body at the thought. "I... yes. Yes." Serena found herself nodding, her face was cracked into an enormous grin. "Yes, of course." She wrapped her arms around Alistair's neck and pulled him down to her, kissing him passionately, their bodies a tangle of limbs in the grass.

"Ha, you Fereldens sure wash your laundry in interesting ways." The elven assassin whistled at them and Serena could hear a girlish giggle join him. Oh, Maker... not Leliana, too! What were they doing? Spying on them?

Serena and Alistair pulled apart awkwardly, both aware of their compromising position on the ground.

"I... we were just... umm..."

"Oh, don't let us bother you, I just meant to collect my clothes, but as I can see... you haven't quite gotten to them, yet." Zevran laughed, his face full of mischief. He turned to the red headed bard beside him. "My dear, if you'd help me, I think these two have better things to be getting on with..."

"No, no, it's fine. I can finish up, really," Serena said quickly, moving to get up. Beside her, she saw Alistair pull himself to his feet, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. "I just, uh..."

"Nonsense," Zevran replied. "I have not been with your group for so long, but the sexual tension between you two was starting to even drive_ me_ mad. Really, you will be doing all of us a favor by getting out of here for awhile." He clapped Alistair on the shoulder. "Good show, by the way, my friend. The river was a lovely touch. It's very scenic."

"I hate you," Alistair said, but Serena saw he was grinning despite himself. Alistair clasped her hand in his, tugging her away. "Come on. Let's not stay where we're obviously not wanted, Serena..."

"But..." Serena looked over her shoulder and saw Leliana practically doubled over laughing with Zevran. "Oh, nevermind..." She followed Alistair back to camp, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.


	40. Chapter 40

**Author's Note:** Like I mentioned in the last chapter, there's a companion piece to this section of the story called _Honeysuckle & Pine_, that covers a bit of Alistair's point of view from then. Also, a big Big BIG thank you to all of you reviewing! I can't tell you how awesome it is to read your comments, especially since a lot of you are from all over the world. It's just the coolest thing. Anywho, thanks to those following along, you really make this worth writing!

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><p><span>Chapter 40<span> - _There's Strange Things in These Woods_

Zevran's prediction back at Redcliffe about the Dalish ended up being absolutely correct. They were barely an hour down the passage that led into the depths of the Brecilian Forest when Serena heard shuffling in the woods around them. As she had requested, Zevran walked at her side in front of the wagon, his amber eyes alert.

"They probably have their archers trained on us as we speak, Serena," he said slowly. "Do not make any sudden movements. Your skin is much too pretty for arrows to pierce it." Serena held up a hand to halt the wagon, Peanut standing at alert beside her. As the wagon came to a stop, three of the Dalish elves materialized in front of them from the woods.

"Stop right there, outsider. The Dalish have camped in this spot." The speaker was a lovely young blonde, with tattoos much like Zevran's marking her face in an intrigue pattern. Her voice rang with the sound of authority, someone who was obviously used to being listened to. "I suggest you go elsewhere, and quickly."

"Good day, miss," Serena said, bowing her head to the elves. "We came here looking for a Dalish clan, in fact." She held out her hands, her daggers remaining at her belt. "We mean you no harm."

"I find that hard to believe," the blonde elf replied, sizing Serena and her companions up. She noticed her eyes paused on Zevran briefly. "What business could we Dalish possibly have with a group like yours?"

Serena straightened her shoulders, summoning all the noble grace she could muster. "I am a Grey Warden, and we seek your leader to discuss the treaty the Dalish signed long ago to assist us in fighting the Blight."

"A Grey Warden?" The woman exchanged glances with her two fellows, and something silent seemed to pass between them before she nodded. "Right, well, I will leave it to the keeper to decide the importance of your business then. In the camp, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself and remember that our arrows are still trained on you." She waved a delicate hand. "Follow me."

They walked for a good twenty minutes until they began to see signs of the Dalish camp. Tents and small bungalows were set up and Serena saw many of the elves had paused whatever they had been doing to stare at their little procession. Small elvish children clung to their mother's, their eyes wide and curious. Near the pocket of tents, Serena saw many elves laid out on small cots, being tended to by others.

The blonde led Serena and the others to a pair of elves, an older bald man and a young woman, bowing her head to both.

"I see we have guests," the man said, one of his eyebrows arching. His voice was deep and almost melodious, and he too had the delicate facial tattoos. "Who are these strangers, Mithra? I have precious little patience and less time to spend on outsiders today."

"I understand, but this one claims to be a Grey Warden," the blonde, Mithra, replied. "They are looking for help to fight the Blight." She glanced to the south, and Serena could almost see her worry creep up to her large dark eyes.

"Ah, of course." The man exchanged a quick glance with the young elven woman at his side before returning his gaze to the elven archer. "Ma serannas, Mithra, you may return to your post."

"Ma nuvein, Keeper," Mithra replied, bowing her head again. She nodded to her fellows and they quickly disappeared back into the forest.

"Now, allow me to introduce myself. I am Zathrian, the keeper of this clan, its guide and preserver of our ancient lore." The bald man smiled softly. "And you are?"

"My name is Serena, a pleasure to meet you." She bowed her head and curtsied to the man. She waved a hand to the people standing nearest her. "These are my companions, Zevran, Alistair, Sten, and Leliana. The rest of my party is inside our wagon, so you know."

"Manners? From a shemlen? Interesting." The elf raised his eyebrow at her again, the same queer smile on his lips. Serena hoped that word, shemlen, meant the same as outsider and not... something worse. "What might be your mission here? Mithra mentioned the Blight. I had already sensed the corruption spreading in the south..." He sighed, his large eyes looking both tired and sad. "I would have taken the clan north by now, had we the ability to move. Sadly, as you can see, we do not."

"Yes, it seems like you have had your own troubles..." Alistair said, smiling crookedly. "What are the odds?"

"I imagine you are here regarding the treaty we signed centuries ago," Zathrian continued. "Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to the promise we made. This will require some... explanation. Please, follow me." Serena halted the wagon where it was and motioned for her fellows to follow her with Zathrian.

"The clan came to the Brecilian Forest one month ago, as is our custom when we enter this part of Ferelden." The bald elf led them through the camp, past the collection of cots that Serena had noticed coming in. Now close up, Serena could see the elves writhing in pain, many of them covered in what looked like deep scratches and bite marks.

"We are always wary of the dangers in the forest, but we did not expect the werewolves would be lying in wait for us."

Serena stared. "I'm sorry, did you say werewolves?" She exchanged wide eyed glances with Alistair, mouthing the word 'werewolves?' to him. He shook his head, shrugging helplessly.

"They... ambushed us, and though we drove the beasts back, much damage was done. Many of our warriors lie dying as we speak." Zathrian gazed at the cots, his almost reddish eyes were burning with a deep violence. "Even with all our magic and healing skill, we will eventually be forced to slay our brethren to prevent them from becoming beasts."

"The Blight's evil must be stopped, but we are in no position to uphold our obligations. I am truly sorry."

Serena nodded, not quite ready to take no for an answer. Her mind briefly flashed back to Highever, and she remembered the tapestries that hung in her family's hall. The Couslands had become Teyrns by banding people together to fight werewolves that stalked the coastlands. She could do this. It was in her _blood_ to do this.

"Then I would like to know what we can do to help," Serena replied steadily. She could almost hear Sten rolling his eyes from behind her and had her suspicions confirmed when she heard his boots crunching as he walked back to the wagon.

The elven keeper narrowed his eyes, shrugging slightly. "The affliction is a curse that runs rampant in their blood, bringing great agony and then ultimately either death or a transformation into something monstrous. The only thing that could help them must come from the source of the curse itself, and that... that would be no trivial task to retrieve."

"Well, then you are lucky my companions and I are experts at non-trivial tasks." Serena heard Zevran snort at her quip and she felt a corner of her mouth quirk up. She had a feeling after their experiences at Redcliffe and the Circle Tower, helping people do these supposed non-trivial tasks was going to be the norm for awhile.

"Alright, well... within the Brecilian Forest dwells a great wolf- we call him Witherfang. It was within him that the curse originated, and through his blood that it has been spread. If he is killed and his heart brought to me, perhaps I could destroy the curse, but this task has proven too dangerous for us." Zathrian sighed, peering at the injured warriors on the cots. "I sent some hunters into the forest a week ago, but they have not returned. I cannot risk any more of my clan."

"So we find this great wolf, take his heart, return to you," Serena replied. She glanced at her companions, shrugging. "I think we can handle that."

"I must warn you that more than werewolves lurk in these woods. Where there is so much death, the Veil separating the spirit realm from our own becomes thin, allowing spirits to possess things living or dead." The elven leader gazed out into the forest beyond, his big eyes looking cold and distant. Serena couldn't help the unease that settled in her stomach, looking at the man. He was downright creepy sometimes. "The Forest has a history full of carnage and murder, you see."

Serena rolled her eyes. Did this man want their help or not? Was he trying to put them off? "Zathrian, I daresay there isn't a corner of Ferelden now that can't claim the same thing."

"Mmm, reminds me of sweet Antiva City," Zevran added. "The blood, the violence..." He sighed fondly. "Now if you could only find me a prostitute or two, a bowl of fish chowder, and a corrupt politician, I would really think I was back home."

"If you can help us, it would certainly enable us to uphold our treaty with the Grey Wardens," the bald elf replied, his eyes watching Zevran curiously.

"Well, it looks like we don't really have a choice then, do we?" Alistair murmured.

"Do you know how to find this Witherfang?" Serena asked.

"Look for the white wolves," Zathrian answered. "They are his eyes and ears in the forest. I'm afraid there is not much to say... it stemmed originally from Witherfang, but now any werewolf may infect someone with it."

"Do you know how it works? Is it by scratch, by bite..? If any of us are bitten, will we turn as well?" More than anything, Serena wanted to know what kind of danger she was asking her friends to willing walk into.

"It is possible, but not guaranteed. The only way to protect against the curse is not to be bitten." The keeper sighed. "I apologize, but there is much I need to tend to. If you need any more questions answered, my apprentice, Lanaya, can help you." He gestured to the pretty elven women standing nearby, then inclined his head. "Creators' speed on your way. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

"Of course, uh, thank you," Serena said, curtsying again. What a strange man, she thought, watching the elf stride towards one of their healers. She hoped the rest of the clan would be easier to read than their leader was. And who was this Creator? Was that the Dalish god? She would have to remember to ask Leliana about it later and see if she knew.

After speaking with Lanaya, Zathrian's apprentice, who she found out is really called a First, Serena headed back to Bodahn's wagon to explain everything she'd learned to the rest of her companions. They gathered around her in a loose circle as Serena stroked Peanut's fur soothingly, his tiny ears flicking happily.

"So, a minor setback, but we're so used to those by now, I'm not even sure werewolves even count as a distraction," Serena began, keeping her voice light. "The good news is-"

"Did you say werewolves?" Morrigan interrupted. "This forest is infested with werewolves?"

"And a bunch of other nasty things, I imagine," Alistair added, grinning at Morrigan. "Does that frighten you?"

"Hardly," the witch drawled, pulling her staff to lean on it. "I'll remind you I lived my entire life in the Wilds, if you can think that far back. I know it was just a few weeks ago we were there..."

"You were saying Serena?" Leliana asked, rolling her eyes. "The good news..."

"Right, so, the good news is Zathrian, their keeper... leader... fellow, will uphold the Grey Warden treaties once we deal with this... werewolf problem. I think as long as we're careful, we should be able to deal with this relatively swiftly."

"Just don't get bitten," Alistair said. "Otherwise you have only a few days until you're all mad and hairy."

"And how would we even tell if you were bitten, Alistair?" Morrigan taunted.

"Oh, I'd drool a bit more, I suppose," the former templar replied, eyeing Morrigan with distaste. "Anyway, we're to go into the forest, find this head wolf-"

"Witherfang," said Leliana. "I'm guessing he would be white, since his emissaries are also white wolves."

"And bring his heart back to Zathrian, so he can try to break the curse," Serena finished. "Now that I'm saying it out loud, it really sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does," Sten rumbled.

Zevran sighed. "It does sound a bit like an Antivan adventure story one of the whores once read to me..."

"But regardless, that's the plan." Serena counted off on her fingers. "Find the wolf, get his heart, come back here, get their promise to help with the Blight. Then we're back on the road to Denerim by tomorrow."

"You know it won't be that easy, Warden," Wynne said cautiously. "It is _never_ that easy."

"I know, but a girl can dream." Serena sighed wistfully. "So, I meant to ask if all of you wanted to come along. I doubt we'd need everybody's help, but I would like to take this werewolf curse seriously, and not risk more of you than we have to. Alistair, I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to go." She turned to her fellow Grey Warden, tapping her forehead meaningfully. "I'm sure you sensed them as we came in here, just faintly."

"Yes, I was going to mention that to you, actually," Alistair said, glancing at the nearby trees. "It's not a heavy presence, but it's still out there. Of course, I'll come along."

Sten stepped forward from the group, his hand on his sword. "I have not killed anything in the better part of a day. I am going."

"I love how one day is your limit on waiting before you need to kill something. How you ever managed in that cage for twenty days..." Serena rolled her eyes. "Right, so-"

"I'm coming," the dark haired witch said. "I have... read things about these woods. I would like to see if any of the legends hold true."

"Maybe this would go faster if I asked if anyone wants to stay behind?" Serena looked at each of her companions in turn, her question hanging in the air. "All right, then. Off we go, and _stick together_. If the Dalish find these woods creepy, and they bloody _live_ in them, then Maker only knows what we're going to find out there."

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><p>As the party left the main Dalish camp to move into the forest, they passed a sandy haired elven man who waved to them. "Andraran atish'an, stranger. I am Anthras. I apologize for accosting you like this, but I had heard from the others that you were planning to head into the forest to search for the wolves." He bowed his head. "I wonder if I may trouble you."<p>

Serena paused, torn between wanting to get things done and not wanting to appear rude. The Dalish were suspicious enough of their group as it was. She motioned for the others to keep moving and that she would catch up. "I... of course. What I can I do for you?"

"My wife, Danyla, and I both fought the werewolves in the ambush. She was... injured so gravely the curse spread rapidly in her. Zathrian fought hard to ease her pain, but there was little he could do. And though he says that Danyla is dead... he will not let me see her... her body." Anthras sighed, his shoulders slumping in grief. "I am beginning to believe she became a werewolf, and that is being kept from me so I do not go chasing after her..."

"If I could just... know if Danyla is alive, or what happened to her... then I could be at peace."

"I'm... so sorry for your..." Serena pursed her lips, not quite knowing what to say to the grieving man. "I... I could see, while we're out there, if there's any... signs of her."

"You said her name is Danyla?" Alistair asked. Serena turned, not realizing he had stayed behind with her.

"Yes, thank you." Anthras reached out, grasping Serena and Alistair's hands lightly. "I would be immensely grateful for any news you could bring." He nodded to them, releasing their hands. With another nod, he turned and disappeared into his bungalow.

Serena sighed. "That poor man..." She felt Alistair grip her hand as they walked to catch up with the others and she was grateful for the feeling of stability he provided. "This is going to sound so silly, but do you think werewolves talk? I mean... they must, right?"

"In some limited capacity, I would imagine, yes." Alistair shrugged. "Otherwise, I don't know how we're supposed to recognize his wife, assuming she's gone hairy, over any of the others. Unless she's still wearing her party dress, of course."

"Speaking of party dresses, don't you owe me a dance?" Serena glanced sidelong at Alistair. "I seem to remember you saying in Ostagar something about the Remigold..."

"I could curse that memory of yours, Serena," Alistair sighed. "You know I left all my _good_ dresses back at Redcliffe..."

"That's a pity, I know you can do some pretty masterful things with that body of yours when you want to..."

"Oh, stop. You're making my ears blush-"

"Oh! Do you see those?" Serena pulled away from him and jogged over to a large paddock. Inside were a small herd of almost deer-like creatures, but bigger and a grayish white, with huge twisting horns. Alistair came to stand beside her, noticing a few of the others had wandered back. "What are these?"

"I think they're called hallor, or halla?" Alistair eyed Serena. "I heard the elves carve their horns into those designs, for decoration."

"Why have we stopped again?" Morrigan stood nearby, her arms folded over her chest. "I don't suppose she found something shiny on the ground?"

"These... animals..." Serena stood on her toes, staring at the herd over the fence. "They're so beautiful."

"Hello, stranger. Can I help you?" Serena started at the sound, turning to the owner of the voice. An elven woman in bright yellow robes stood smiling at her.

"Good day... I'm Serena... I was just curious about your herd here... I've never seen anything like them before."

The woman nodded. "My name is Elora, I'm the master herder for the clan." She came to stand beside Serena and gazed out on the herd. "These are called halla. I care for them when we are not on the move." One of the halla came to the paddock fence and gently nuzzled Elora's hand. "Yes, my friend, we may be here for awhile." She turned back to Serena. "They are noble beasts, and they pull our aravel... what you call "landships"... as well as being our companions and guides."

"They're beautiful..." Serena smiled, watching the halla graze within the paddock. She felt something twitch at her senses, just beyond her field of awareness and she focused on the herd. "I... is there something wrong? With that one there? She seems... I don't know."

"I am surprised you sensed that, stran- Serena." Elora motioned to her, leading her into the paddock. One of the larger halla was standing off to the side, away from the others. "I fear she may have been bitten during the werewolf attack. I have tried speaking with her, but she is too agitated for me to understand." She stroked the halla gently, but it shook its head, pulling away. "The curse would not affect her as it would us, but it would still be lethal. And it may prove contagious to the other halla, as well."

"I can find no wound on her, but if she's truly ill, then... then I will have to put her out of her misery. For her sake as well as that of the others."

"I... could I look at her? Sometimes I have feelings about things." Serena slowly moved up to the animal, placing a careful hand on its side. A swirl of confused images flashed through her mind. The werewolves... they were much bigger than she was expecting, nearly twice her size in height, oh Maker... and one of the halla...

"She... she has a mate. One of the males..." Serena glanced up, her blue eyes snapping to one of the larger male halla. "He was bitten. It's why you have been unable to calm her. She... she worries about him."

"Oh, of course," Elora stroked the halla's muzzle. "Yes, girl, it will be alright, we will find a way to treat him." The elven woman turned back to Serena, smiling. "Ma serannas. You have a great gift, S-Serena." The elf said her name hesitantly, as if she was unused to addressing humans by their given names. "I have heard of humans who possess an ability, much like we elves, to be... attuned to the ways of the forest. If... if you'd like, perhaps you could come see me after you finish up in the forest... I would like to discuss it further with you."

"That would be lovely, I..." Serena glanced around quickly, slightly embarrassed. "I don't know too much about it, and to be able to speak with someone who has such experience..."

"Yes, absolutely. You can find me here when you return. Dareth shiral, Serena, I hope to see you soon."

"If you're done with fawning over the deer creatures..." Morrigan tapped her foot impatiently, her golden eyes were narrowed at Serena in annoyance. Serena sighed, waving to the elven woman as she joined with the others. "We aren't going to help every single person who stops us with a query, I hope?"

Serena snorted. "I'm sorry not everything interesting is an eight foot qunari you can, ahem, socialize with." Serena caught up with Alistair, grinning.

"'Tis not the same," Morrigan replied, her voice low.

"Yes, I know," Serena said, glancing at Sten. "The halla are actually _cute_."


	41. Chapter 41

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone reviewing and following! I love reading your comments, they crack me up.

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><p><span>Chapter 41<span> - _What's The Qunari Word For Annoying?_

The Brecilian Forest was beautiful, in a... spooky sort of way. The area just beyond the Dalish camp was lush and much more exotic than the Kocari Wilds had been, with streams running throughout and large leafy plants bursting out of the ground. The trees were thick and enormous, the tops reaching so high Serena had to crane her neck to see them.

"You know, they say the Veil is thin here, and all manner of strange things may be seen..." Leliana was keeping pace beside Serena, her new bow out. Serena had been delighted to find out Leliana was just as good a shot as her, and had taken her down into the village at Redcliffe to see if the blacksmith could outfit her with a bow of her own.

The man had been so happy to have his daughter back, he'd made Leliana a beautiful long bow, and Serena a newer, better bow, with a slight recurve. They had practiced with them out in the archery fields at Redcliffe one afternoon, and Serena had been thrilled to see the balance was absolutely perfect.

"So, the Veil... is that like what happened in the tower?" Serena asked.

"Mm, I assume so. Granted, this would be a bit different, since those... monsters... were summoned." They passed a small sapling that had been hung with skulls and Leliana pursed her lips. "The Veil between the worlds often tears on its own when a place has seen much bloodshed. Memories of the spirits haunt the ground, some searching for victims, and others for whatever they need to give them peace."

"You know, considering Ferelden was basically founded on bloodshed and violence, I'm surprised we don't run into these things more often." A uneasy feeling had started to creep up on Serena, and she pulled her daggers. She saw Leliana glance down at the two shiny silverite blades and pull her bow up straighter. "Just in case..."

"Sten! Behind you!" Serena heard Alistair's voice and she turned as a large gray wolf vaulted from the rocky ledge above them. The qunari turned in one fluid motion, his great sword catching the wolf in mid-air as he slammed it down. The wolf yelped in pain, unable to move, as four more wolves dove in from the thick underbrush and Zevran and Alistair moved to engage them, back-to-back.

A long low howl sounded, and two other enormous wolves, standing on their hind legs, appeared in front of Leliana and Serena, their muzzles thick with a white froth. Leliana pulled her bow, shooting the first in its abdomen and it howled again, setting to charge, as Serena's mabari bounded forward, teeth bared.

Behind her, Serena heard the sounds of scuffling as the men took care of the wolves. A icy spell shot between her and Leliana and the second werewolf froze as Serena sprinted, her boot snapping out and kicking it into pieces. The darker wolf continued to hiss and snarl as Leliana circled it, peppering it with arrows as it made to claw at her. Serena pulled a throwing knife from her belt, one of her last, and tossed it at the fiend's chest, where it finally fell to the ground in a heap.

"Hmm. They're a lot fouler than I thought," Alistair said, pushing on the fur pile with the toe of his boot. "I'm surprised they'd come this close to the Dalish camp. Do you think they're planning another ambush?" Some of the others were moving further along the path, their weapons out as Serena kneeled down beside the werewolf, peering into its face.

"Could be, although I'm not sure how... sentient... they are." Serena glanced around at the other bodies. "The wolves are normal, at least. They're not infected, I mean."

Alistair turned and looked down, his honey colored eyes peering keenly at her. "Can you just... sense that?"

"Yeah, it's... I don't know how to explain it. I just know." Serena shrugged, sheathing her daggers once again. "It's more intense, here in the middle of the forest, than out on the road. Kind of like our..." She dropped her voice low so only he could hear her. "Like our _other_ senses."

"Yes, I can feel that oh-so familiar ache, just beyond..." Alistair gazed into the forest, his mouth curving into a frown. "Darkspawn..."

"Did you... hear the call? Last night? I saw it again, the dragon." Serena sighed heavily. "I can't wait until we kill that thing, Alistair. These dreams... they're the absolute _worst_..."

Alistair put an arm around her hips, tugging her close in a brief hug. "I know." They crossed another small stream and caught up with Leliana, who was watching the woods apprehensively.

"Sten, Zevran, and Wynne went ahead to scout," she said. "These woods are... very confusing."

"It's the magic," Morrigan replied, joining them. "I could sense it back in the Dalish camp, but here is it much older... more powerful. It's in the very trees. They do not appreciate our presence, it would seem."

"It's not the demons-coming-to-ruin-your-life type magic, right?" Serena asked, nervous. "Just the general sparkly bits? Fireballs and the like?"

The dark haired witch rolled her eyes. "'Tis not demons, as far as I can tell." Serena let out the breath she didn't realize she'd be holding and Leliana arched an eyebrow at her.

"What was your nightmare, Serena? When we were in the Fade?"

"I... uh..." Serena glanced at Alistair, then quickly away, her facing flushing. "My family... I was... back in my family's castle. It was silly and awful. I... I've been trying to forget it, actually."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's alright," Serena said swiftly, kneeling down to pet Peanut and avoid the bard's apologetic gaze. "We should just get moving, though. It'll be nightfall before you know it, and I don't know about you, but I don't want to be fighting in the dark." She ran a hand over Peanut's head, scratching at his little ears. "I hope you're ready, boy." The mabari let out a quick bark and she started back down the path.

* * *

><p>"The watch-wolves have spoken truly, my brothers and sister."<p>

Serena turned at the gruff sound, and three werewolves rose to their hind legs, standing near a small waterfall. "The Dalish send a human, of all things, to repay us for our attack, to put us in our place. What a bitter irony." The beasts words were punctuated with heavy rasping breaths.

Serena backed up, holding her mabari back by the collar. "Excuse me- what? The Dalish didn't send us as... we're not mercenaries."

"Do you take us for fools? We know you come from their camp outside the forest. No doubt the old keeper himself sent you." The werewolf appeared to be their leader, and his keen eyes bored into Serena's. "You speak to Swiftrunner. I lead my cursed brothers and sisters." He flung out a clawed hand.

"Turn back now, go back to the Dalish and tell them that you have failed. Tell them we will gladly watch them suffer the same curse we have suffered for too long. We will watch them pay!"

"I would prefer to speak with you, actually," Serena said calmly. "I want to know what the Dalish did to incur your... wrath."

"Was it not Zathrian who sent you? He wishes only our destruction, never to talk."

Serena bit back a retort about bald elves and sighed. "I'm not Zathrian. Surely there is a way we can solve this peacefully. You were human once, or elven, were you not?"

"The... the time for peace is long past." Swiftrunner's eyes glowed with an unnatural fury. "There will be no peace between the elves and we who are cursed!"

"But some of you _are_ Dalish, I know this! How can you hate them so much?"

"You- you know nothing, do you?" one of the other wolves spat.

"They know nothing of us, and even less of those they server." Swiftrunner turned back to Serena. "You are a fool, and we are _done_ talking. Run from the forest while you can. Run to the Dalish and tell them they are doomed."

"I will do no such thing. I don't want to fight you, Swiftrunner, but we're not backing down on this."

"I do not wish to fight you, either, but we cannot trust you." The beastly wolf turned to its fellows, growling. "Come brothers and sisters, let us retreat. The forest has eyes of its own, and it will deal with intruders as it always has." With a quick motion to its fellows, the werewolves fell to all fours and bolted back into the forest.

Alistair watched as Serena let go of Peanut, her shoulders slumping miserably from her confident stance just a moment before. Her hound moved forward to start sniffing loudly at where the wolves had stood and he saw her shake her head.

"Well, that went well," Serena muttered darkly. "I suppose that _did_ answer the sentient question, though."

"Warden!" Serena turned to see the giant form of Sten hefting a body over his shoulder while Zevran and Wynne followed a few paces behind. "We found this elf just beyond those trees."

"Oh!" Serena peered around the huge qunari's shoulder to look at the man. "He's... he's one of the Dalish. Is he alive?"

"Do you think I would heave a dead body all this way?"

"What you do in your spare time is none of my concern, Sten," Serena said tartly. She rolled her eyes and placed a hand on the elven man's neck. "Could we take him back to the camp? He's still breathing."

"I healed him as best I could, but the man needs rest," Wynne added, her eyes focused on the elf.

"We are at least an hour's walk into these woods..." Leliana began. "Perhaps we should split up for a time?"

Sten eyed his companions warily. "I will take the elf and your warrior hound back with me."

"His name is Zevran, and his name is Peanut," said Serena, pointing to each.

"Oh, I feel so honored. Does this mean we are best friends now?" Zevran asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Just the dog, then," Sten replied.

"Peanut."

"That is a stupid name. He looks nothing like a nut. I would prefer to call him Dog."

"I would prefer to call _you_ by a lot of names, but I refer to you as Sten, don't I?" Serena flapped a hand at him. "Just _go_. The Dalish camp is that way. Wynne, could you please accompany him? I'm afraid our large friend here will forget he carries a living breathing person on his back." Wynne nodded, a small smile on her lips, and followed the qunari and Peanut down the path.

"By the Maker, that man will be the death of me..."

* * *

><p>The forest, as many had so far claimed, was indeed a wild and savage place. The sun passed quickly overhead as their group wandered deeper into the darkening wood, they were attacked by a few more pockets of wolves, a small band of darkspawn, and a...<p>

"Tree! Oh, sweet Maker, that's a tree!" Serena shrieked as the gigantic wooden hand reached down and plucked her from the path. It's fingers trapped her arms to her torso as she struggled against it, unable to reach any of her weapons. "I can't... ughhh-" Her breath was knocked out of her as the giant walking tree squeezed her chest.

"Serena!" Alistair bashed into the truck with his shield, unsure what to do to take down a tree. With a loud swish, another tree appeared behind him and he yelled, spinning to swing his sword at the hand that came down for him. A loud crack and the branch snapped under the weight of his swing, the wooden fiend howling as it clutched at its ruined arm. Alistair turned, ready to reengage with the tree holding Serena captive.

Nearby, Leliana pulled a flaming arrow, aiming for the strange eyes that had appeared in the bark of the injured tree, rolling wildly in it's trunk. The arrow hit true, and the tree howled once again, toppling over.

"Get out of the way!" Morrigan cried, flinging a spell at the oak's topmost branches. Leliana clutched at Alistair's shoulder, drawing him back out of range as the tree holding Serena stomped about, flailing her about in its hand as she squirmed uselessly in it's fingers.

"It will stomp us if we stay here!" Leliana shouted at him, her hands grasping at the neck of his armor.

"But she's still- Serena!" Alistair made to move back and the bard pulled harder as a second fireball jettisoned out of Morrigan's hand, exploding into the trunk as the tree twisted, using it's other hand to try to put out the fiery leaves atop it. Behind them, another tree stepped forward to join its fellow.

It immediately grasped for the nearest person, and Zevran rolled out its way, just missing the trees' long branching fingers as it reached for him. He sprinted a short distance down the path, leading the enormous tree away from Leliana and the others. The tree scrambled after the assassin, grabbing uselessly as the elf ducked and dove, digging into his belt pouch.

"Before we get too friendly, I would prefer if you at least buy me a drink first!" Zevran pulled a small metallic ball from his belt and tossed it at the oncoming tree, where it exploded in a bright burst of flames, immediately engulfing the tree as it howled, its mouth filled with long sharp splinters.

Meanwhile, Serena struggled against her own woody assailant, the fire from Morrigan's spell getting closer to her with every second. "Let! Me! GOOOO!" Serena screamed, wiggling out of the tree's somewhat loosened grip. With a painful yelp, she pulled herself out of its wooden fingers and flipped back down to the ground. Breathing hard, her knees crumbling under her own weight from exhaustion, she fell to the dirt with a thump.

"This is not a safe place for you, my dear," Zevran said, appearing beside her like magic. Sweeping his hands under Serena and lifting her easily, the assassin quickly strode over to where Leliana was forcibly holding Alistair back out of the way of Morrigan's spells and dumped Serena into his arms. "I believe this belongs to you."

Bemused, Alistair simply nodded numbly, all the fight going out of him as he dipped to his knees to check on Serena. He laid her gently onto the ground, his eyes frantically searching over her body for injuries as Morrigan fired off another fireball from each hand, the two remaining trees screamed, collapsing to the ground in a burning pile.

"Nicely done," Zevran replied, grinning at the witch. He stepped over to one of the downed trees, examining it closely.

Serena coughed, her hands grabbing for Alistair and Leliana as they helped her back to her feet. "Oh, Maker, I was nearly crushed... to death... by a tree. _A tree_. A bloody tree!" She stomped over to where Zevran was, kicking at the mangled branches. "Stupid thing, you nearly throttled me!"

"I believe that was their intent, yes," Zevran murmured. "This makes me think perhaps we are on the right path, afterall." Morrigan and the rest had gathered around and he turned to Serena. "Shall we continue then?"

Serena gave the tree one last good kick then nodded. "Yes... thank you, by the way. All of you. I don't think I could handle it if I'd died there... my tombstone saying 'Here Lies Serena, She Was Killed By A Tree.'"

"Maker knows I could use a stiff drink," Leliana replied, shaking her head as they continued down the path. Each was now extra wary of the trees, in particular, and when Serena heard a quick snap, she threw out her hands, stopping Alistair and Leliana beside her.

"Hold. I heard something." She crept forward, her hands on her daggers. "I'll be damned if some other..." Serena started as a werewolf limped out of the brush in front of her, obviously in pain. Scraps of clothing dotted its body as it crawled before her.

"P-please... help... listen... I am not... the mindless beast I appear to be..." The wolf's voice, though mangled as they all were, was recognizable as a woman's. She held out of a paw, her chest heaving in great gasping breaths. "I am cursed... it... burns in me! I was an elf... bitten... and fled into the forest... the werewolves, they... took me in. But I had to return. I had to! My husband..."

"D-Danyla?" Serena said cautiously. "Are you... are you Athras' wife?"

"Yes! Please... you must help me..." The werewolf doubled over again, wheezing hard. "Bring him... a message... for me..."

Serena could hear Leliana quietly gasp. "Oh, the poor woman! She is in such pain..."

"This... scarf... bring it to him. Tell him... I love him." The wolf clawed at its neck, pulling a tattered scarf from its neck. "Tell him I am dead... and with the gods. I beg you..."

"We spoke to him, he is very worried. He... he suspected this... befell you."

"I want him to be at peace..." the werewolf cried, her entire body wracking with sobs as she held the scarf out to Serena. "He is a good man. Please do not... let him suffer... thinking of me."

"Y-yes, of course." Serena took the scarf and folded it gently, placing it in her pack. "I will make sure it gets to Athras, with your message."

"Ah, the pain! The curse... is fire in my blood! Please, I must ask you... end it for me! Quickly!"

"I... yes, I will, I promise... I hate to ask this, but can you... do you know where the wolves are? The others?"

"There is a ruin... in the center of the forest... You may find them there. They will think... you mean to kill them." The werewolf convulsed violently and Serena felt a stab in her heart at having delayed the woman's pain further. "I can... tell you no more... the pain! It is... too much. Please... fulfill your... promise."

"Yes, of course." Serena placed a hand on the shaking head of the beast, bringing her dagger around swiftly to slice the woman's throat. Blood poured from the wound as Serena gently laid the werewolf woman down in the soft dirt. "I'm sorry, Danyla. May you find peace now."

"Is that the elven man's wife?" Wynne, Sten and Peanut came up from behind them, Wynne placing a tender hand on Serena's shoulder. Serena nodded.

"It was as he thought. She had turned." Serena peered at the others, noticing her mabari had been fighting. "Did you all make it back all right?"

"We ran into two Blighted wolves," Wynne replied. "Sten took care of them easily enough. I noticed the burning trees back there..."

"Oh, those," Serena mumbled. Her ribs still hurt a bit from being trapped by one of the trees' branches. "I was unaware that even the trees could fight in this forest, but..."

"Yes, we ran into one of the walking trees, as well," Sten grumbled, shrugging his massive shoulders. "The bas saarebas lit it on fire and we were able to continue here."

"Bas saarebas? What's that?"

Sten glanced at Wynne, then Morrigan. "The kossith term for magic-wielders."

"Ah, mages. Yes. So... what's a kossith?" Serena asked.

"I am a kossith," Sten replied.

"I thought you were a qunari."

"Yes."

Serena frowned. "Then what's a kossith?"

"I am. As you are a human, that is an elf, and that is a hound. I am one of the kossith."

"Then what's a qunari?"

The giant sighed, as if this was common knowledge and Serena was merely being difficult to vex him. "The Qunari are those who follow the Qun. Any may follow the Qun; human, elf, dwarf, kossith."

"Oh." Serena paused. "So, we're not incorrect in referring to you as a qunari, right?"

"No. I follow the Qun."

"This sounds like it would be a great beginning to a riddle," Alistair said. "A qunari, an apostate, and an elf walk into a tavern..."

Morrigan rolled her staff idly in her hands, her yellow eyes looked the same color as the werewolf's to Serena. "If the vocabulary lesson is all done, 'twould be wonderful if we could get to this ruin the dead werewolf spoke of before nightfall. Or we are attacked by more magical screaming saplings."

"Right, sorry." Serena wiped her dagger blade of the werewolf's blood and sheathed it. "I imagine we're... west of the ruin now, then, if it's truly in the center of the forest."

Upon entering the center of the forest, however, they found themselves amidst a thick fog. Walking through it several times netted them no progress at all, and Serena found herself turning to her companions in confusion.

"Wait here," Leliana said, sprinting into the mist once again. A minute passed while the others stood waiting until she ran back out. "Back here again! So what do we need to do? Is it magic that is keeping us from getting through the path?"

"Maybe there's another path around this... whatever this is," Alistair suggested, waving a hand at the fog. "Unless suddenly werewolves can do magic, too."

Serena snorted. "After the trees, I refuse to be surprised by anything in this place..."

They spread out, searching the other paths for signs of the ruin until Zevran called out. "Wardens, I believe I found our ruins!" The assassin was standing atop a downed pillar, grinning broadly. He held out a hand to lift Serena up next to him, and she peered down into the shallow basin below, where a small camp had been pitched.

"Shall we?"


	42. Chapter 42

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone for the kind reviews and for following along! This is my first published fic, and the feedback has just been astounding, really. Thank you all so much!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 42<span> - _Talking Trees and Hermits_

They stared down at the man in the basin, to whom the camp presumably belonged, as he flapped his arms and jumped from foot to foot, speaking loudly to... nobody. Serena exchanged glances with Zevran, her eyebrows in her hair.

"He's quite obviously mad, my dear, so do keep close." Zevran gripped Serena's hand as they snuck down the winding path leading into the basin. Clumps of leaves softened their footsteps as they neared the makeshift camp.

"No. No way are you two just going off like this." Alistair pulled gently at Serena's leathers, tugging the two rogues to a stop.

"I promise it is for a clandestine operation only, my friend; I hadn't even thought of stealing your young lady... until now." Zevran grinned, his voice a slow, seductive whisper.

"As if you could, elf," Alistair replied, rolling his eyes. "I'm coming with you, regardless, though." He glanced at Serena, shrugging. "The last time you two slipped off, you got a staff to the face courtesy of a blood mage. Anything at all could be down there. No way are you going without me."

Serena ran a hand over the area where the mage had struck her. "Hmm, you have an excellent point." She turned to Zevran. "Party of three, then."

The assassin laughed. "Ha, no complaints from me. I swing whichever way is simplest and most pleasurable."

"Is there ever a time when your mind isn't on sex, Zevran?" Serena whispered.

"Of course, sweet Warden. Sometimes I am asleep, or otherwise engaged in battle." Zevran grinned again, letting go of Serena's hand. "Come, daylight is wasting and I wish to get this cloak-and-dagger mission actually going somewhere." He led them down the path and into the small camp, where they looked around for the white haired man who'd been speaking to himself.

"Oh dear, oh dear. Not a werewolf, or a spirit, even... what are these woods coming to?"

"Oh, my goodness!" Serena spun around, the old man right behind her. "How did you…? Who are you?"

"Questions, questions, always questions," the hermit answered. He had a strange brusque voice, as if he was perpetually in a rush. "They say it was questions that made me mad; will it do the same for you? Ask a question and you'll get a question, but give an answer and you'll receive the same. Oh, I do so love to trade!"

"Right, so..." Serena paused, thinking hard. "I'm Serena."

The hermit laughed. "You are much smarter than you look, then. So, an answer, but to your own question... very clever, indeed. Let's see, let's see... what shall I ask?"

"_That's_ a question, isn't it?" Alistair muttered.

"That's a question, too," Zevran added, exchanging grins with the former templar.

Serena bit her bottom lip, holding back a laugh. She turned back to the hermit. "Yes, well... Would you like to ask me a question?"

"I think it is your turn to ask, is it not?"

Serena rolled her eyes. "Then... who are you?"

"Who am I? Why do you want to know?" The hermit paced around the trio is a circle, his hands flexing rapidly. "Did _they_ send you? Did _they_ tell you to ask?"

"That's a lot of questions," Serena replied, smirking. "You better have some answers."

"Ahh! Damnation! Caught by my own rules!" The old man shook his head, nodding to himself. "Oh... they are tricky. Did they tell you to pretend to be an innocent stranger? Your disguise won't work. I can sense the magic in you. Like the Lady, you are."

"The Lady? Magic? Wait, wait, wait, I'm no mage!"

"Two questions, that means I get two answers."

"I... fine. I'm _not_ a mage. And my name is Serena. Nobody sent me." She rolled her eyes. "That's three answers, so I get a question. Who is the Lady?"

"The Lady of the Forest. She commands the wolves. Filled with magic, and you are just like her." The hermit frowned, his pale eyes flicking over Serena. "You could be more, though, oh yes, much more. But for now, a question. Why are you here?"

"We're trying to get to the center of the forest," Serena answered. "Do you know how to enter?"

"Ah, ha ha, very good! I like you, forest girl." The hermit nodded inanely, dancing about. Serena glanced at her fellows and saw they were watching the man with great delight. "That is where the wolf men have their lair, but the trees will block the path. There's a way to fool the trees, of course. Trees are thick, wooden things, after all. Easily fooled if you know how."

"And I suppose you know how?" Alistair asked.

"I do, but I'm not telling," the hermit replied, his eyes dancing as much as his feet. "Is there another question you wanted to ask?"

"You said you like to trade, do you have anything besides words and questions?"

"Ha, ha! Indeed I do, forest girl, indeed I do! What would you like?"

Serena glanced around the camp, unsure of what to say. Behind the hermit, she saw Zevran shift slightly, his eyes going to a stump, on which rested an enormous acorn. "What about your nut there?"

"Yes, yes, I stole that from an oak tree, and it won't stop pestering me for it back!" The hermit picked up the acorn and tossed it from hand to hand, spinning it on one finger. "I told you the trees were easy to fool, especially big, talking, rhyming oak trees. Ha!"

Serena nodded to Zevran, a plan forming in her mind. "Well, do you want to trade or not?"

"This is very valuable, oh yes..." The old man eyed Serena warily, the pale orbs pausing on her knapsack. "What could you possibly have to trade me for it?"

"I... I have a very rare book, in fact," Serena replied, opening her pack. She moved slowly, to build up the suspense. "Do you like to read?"

"Another question! But of course I like to read!" The hermit bounced from foot to foot again, the acorn spinning on his finger, his game about questions and answers apparently forgotten in his excitement. "Oh yes, oh yes, it's been so long since I've had a new book to read. A book, eh? A book, a book. What sort of book?"

Serena pulled out the _Dragons of Tevinter_, holding it up to the old man. "So, we have a deal then."

"Yes, yes, it's been ages since I've seen a dragon, unless you count the one that sings in the south..." The hermit tossed the acorn in the air and Zevran caught it as Serena handed him the book. "Yes, this will make for good reading by the moonlight. Or it'll be better than using leaves. Yes, yes, yes." He put the book in his pocket and grinned at the trio. "Now, that's done. What else have you got on your agenda, hmm?"

Serena shrugged, as if she were simply mumbling to herself. "That talking tree... where might I find him, I wonder..."

"To the southwest of this very spot," the hermit replied, patting the book's outline in his pocket. "Yes, so large and it never shuts up, you can't miss it." He put out his hands, shooing the small group. "Off you go, then, yes, yes, forest girl. Go ask the tree some questions about your magic!"

"I don't have any-" Serena stopped, rolling her eyes. "Nevermind. Goodbye, ser." Serena waved to the boys and they left the camp, heading back up to where the rest of their companions sat.

"Two silvers it was a complete waste of time," Morrigan was saying to Leliana.

"Ha, keep your coin, Leli, _we_ got an acorn!" Serena called, as Zevran spun the acorn on his finger in much the same manner as the hermit had.

"'Tis marvelous, really, how you manage day-to-day, Serena," Morrigan replied, rolling her golden eyes. "What with the lasting effects of that massive head wound of yours... Perhaps we should start leaving you in the wagon with the simple dwarven boy."

"No, no, I know how this sounds," Serena began, her hands out. "Just... trust me..."

* * *

><p>"Tell me again this... plan, Serena," Morrigan drawled. Unusually, she was keeping pace at Serena's side near the front of their group as they headed southwest towards the tree. "How is an acorn going to get us to the wolves?"<p>

"The hermit stole the acorn from this... talking tree. The trees are what are causing that magic fog. I'm assuming this tree really wants it's... baby acorn thing back, and if we give it to him, he owes us, right?" Serena glanced sidelong at the witch. "Right?"

"This is all working off the assumption that these... _trees_... think."

"The werewolves _think_, they can reason." Serena shrugged helplessly. "It's the best lead we've gotten."

"I still think you put too much stock in instinct alone," Morrigan replied. "One of these days, things aren't going to just magically work out." Serena glanced at her sharply.

"Do you sense magic in me?" she said quickly, her voice low. "The hermit... he said I have magic, but... you would have sensed it, right?"

Morrigan eyed Serena, her lips pursed. "You have something, but 'tis not magic, not in the way we mages control it. You are... connected, to the forest. To the animals. The wolf before, your flea-ridden mutt... these are not accidents." She noticed Serena's intense look and sighed. "Look, you are the first woman I have ever come across to have the ability. I have seen it before, in the Chasind men, but they are... practically barbarians. 'Twould not be very surprising to hear they could commune with animals."

"But it's not every animal... those other wolves still..."

"You aren't very powerful, yet," Morrigan interrupted. "And were even less so weeks ago. I have a book you should read, when we return to the camp." There was another careless shrug. "If you want."

Serena ducked her head, a small smile on her lips. "Thanks, Morrigan."

"Ladies, I hate to interrupt, but I believe this is our new friend, just there." Zevran pointed to a large twisted oak a hundred paces in front of them. It was a beautiful tree, with coppery leaves and deep brown bark. Without a word, Zevran handed Serena the acorn.

"All right... okay. This will work. He'll be... grateful." Serena nodded to herself and strode up to the tree. "Ah, hello? Are you... are you there?"

The great tree shifted, it's twisting trunk becoming two great legs and its branches becoming two arms. Serena couldn't help but back up, the memory of the earlier tree that had nearly crushed her flashing through her mind.

"What manner of beast be thee that comes before this elder tree?"

"I... I am a human," Serena said, curtsying politely. "A lady." She could hear Zevran snicker from behind her.

"Ahhhh, yes, I remember thy kind," the tree replied, it's voice pleasant and low. "So brief of life and all but blind... to the peril you cause, the lives you take... such chaos is sown within thy wake." The tree shook its mighty head, the leaves swaying and cracking in the wind. "Allow me a moment to welcome thee. I am called the Grand Oak, sometimes the Elder Tree. And unless thou thinkst it far too soon, might I ask of thee a boon?"

"Well, the world is certainly full of marvelous, unexpected creations." Wynne came to stand beside Serena, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Each day we see something that we never thought possible."

Leliana stepped forward as well, her bow in her hand. "The other trees... they're quite hostile, you know."

The Grand Oak nodded, his entire body swaying side to side. "Of the sylvans, this is true... they are quite mad, their virtues few. A spirit trapped within a tree, no mouth to scream or eyes to see. A cage of bark, a prison wood, a thing of rage where nature stood."

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say I like this rhyming tree," Alistair said quietly.

"And an excellent pun as well, my friend," Zevran added, patting Alistair on the back. They both laughed, and Serena rolled her eyes.

"So twisted sylvan they become, but I am not the same as some," the Grand Oak continued, either ignoring or not even hearing the boys chatter, Serena couldn't tell. "I accept my fated oaken home, I feel no need to rage and roam."

"Right, so, you were saying something about a boon?" Serena prompted the tree.

"I have but one desire, to solve a matter very dire... as I slept one early morn, a thief did come and steal an acorn..." The tree let out a huge rush of air that Serena assumed was a sigh. "All I have is my being, my seed. Without it I am alone indeed. I cannot go and seek it out; yet I shall die if left without."

Serena turned and grinned triumphantly at Morrigan, giggling as she saw the witch roll her eyes. She turned back to the giant tree and held up the acorn high, hoping the great tree could see it.

"We traded that thief for this acorn boon, as we hoped to have it to you soon... we'd heard you missed it badly, see... and now you have it, clear and free." Behind her she could hear Alistair and Zevran totally lose it, laughing loudly.

The Grand Oak bowed, gently plucking the acorn from Serena's hands. "My joy soars to new heights indeed! I am reunited with my seed!" To her enormous delight, the great tree hugged the acorn close to its bark-covered chest. Serena felt her heart swell at the tree's happiness. For the first time in ages, they'd been able to help someone, or something, without having to kill anyone to do it.

"This cannot pass without reward; I shall give what little I can afford." The tree pulled a stray branch from its back and handed it to Serena. "Keep this branch of mine with thee, and pass throughout the forest free."

"I wish thee well, my mortal friend. Thou brought my sadness to an end." Reaching down again, Serena realized the tree was trying to shake her hand, and she extended her hand, grasping one of its long fingers in what might have been the most awkward handshake ever. "May the sunlight find you, thy days be long, thy winters kind, and thy roots be strong." With another curtsy, Serena bobbed back from the tree as it threw itself back into its twisted stance, going still again.

She turned to her companions, red in the face but smiling broadly. "Wow. That was..."

"That... was... _fantastic_..." Alistair gasped between breaths. "Poet tree... oh, boy. And your rhyme!" He exchanged another look with Zevran and they both doubled over again laughing.

"It wasn't that funny, idiot boys," Morrigan grumbled, her eyes narrowed at them and her arms folded over her chest.

Serena held the tree branch out, examining it. "Oh, come on, Morrigan. That was a solid tick, or should I say _stick_, in the win column for us... no death, no destruction, just a silly tree happy to have it's seed back. Also, you owe Leliana two silvers."

"I throughly hate you all," Morrigan replied. She dipped into her pocket and pressed two silver coins into Leliana's waiting hand, the bard grinning cheekily at her.

"Perhaps we should get through that fog and into the ruin," Wynne said, glancing at the slowly darkening sky. "It would be better if we could camp indoors, I think."

Serena nodded, and the party started moving again. Serena found herself walking next to the giant qunari, and smiled up at him, holding up the Grand Oak branch. "So... at least we're making some headway now, huh?"

Sten regarded the tree branch in her hand and rolled his eyes. "This forest is asinine. Much like your entire country. It makes me miss Seheron more. There was order there, things made sense. This country is nothing but chaos."

"What were you expecting? There's a Blight and the rumblings of a civil war..." Serena began.

"Even without those things, no one has a place here. Your farmers wish to be merchants. The merchants dream of being nobles, and nobles become warriors." He eyed Serena with his penetrating red eyes and she thought she could see the beginnings of a smirk. "No one is content to be who they are."

"I'm content," Serena replied. "I'm _wildly_ content. I've got my tree branch here, and look, there's the mist, and we'll just walk right through that... oh yes, I'm very content right now." She shrugged, looking up at the huge man. "Is there _anything_ you like about Ferelden?"

"There is... interesting food here."

"Interesting like, good interesting?" Serena asked. "Or interesting like 'this tastes like a shoe but I don't want to be rude' so you say it's interesting?"

"You have a thing... it doesn't have a word in the qunari tongue. Little baked things, like bread, but sweet, and crumbly." Sten rummaged in his pack, pulling out a small tin. He opened it and smiled, offering one of its contents to Serena.

"Cookies?" Serena took a small frosted bit shaped like a pony and popped it in her mouth.

"Yes! We have no such things in our lands. This should be remedied." Sten took one of the cookies for himself and placed the tin back in his pack.

"Where did you get these, by the way?" Serena said, chewing quickly.

"There was a child, a fat, slovenly thing, in the last village we passed... I relieved him of these confections..." Sten shrugged his massive shoulders. "He didn't need more."

Serena laughed. "You stole cookies from a child?" The picture her mind was forming for her of this huge man plucking a tin of cookies from a fat kid had her in a fit of giggles.

"It was for his own good," Sten replied.

"The qunari views on ownership are very... interesting," Serena said carefully.

"Indeed."

* * *

><p>They came upon the mist and Serena waved the branch about, not sure what to do. Like a torch, the magical branch parted the mists and they were able to finally enter the ruins properly. Almost immediately, the forms of the werewolves met them, the one calling himself Swiftrunner among them.<p>

"The forest has not been vigilant enough," the lead werewolf growled at them. "Still you come." He snarled, and Serena felt Alistair come to stand at her other side, his hand at her back. "You are stronger than we could have anticipated. The Dalish chose well... But you do not belong here, outsider. Leave this place!"

"Would you allow me to discuss this Witherfang? Or the… the Lady of the Forest?"

"The Lady- you, what do you know of... arghh... You are sent by the treacherous Dalish to kill Witherfang! I will not stand by and allow that to happen!" The werewolf clutched his head. "I... I will not risk believing you simply want to talk! You are all intruders in _our_ home! You come to kill, as all your kind do! We have... learned this lesson well."

The werewolves keen eyes focused on Serena, and she was reminded of the night by the river when Morrigan had changed. Her eyes then had looked much the same. "Here, Witherfang protects us... we will defend Witherfang and this place with our lives!" With a howl, the group of werewolves charged at Serena, and she barely had enough time to grab her daggers before the first one was on them.

The wolf pounced on her, snarling, as Serena quickly used its momentum against it to flip it over herself. Rolling to her feet, she stood back to back with Zevran as they moved in a circle, their fighting style complimenting each other perfectly. Like a complicated dance, Serena was reminded of her time in the Fade with him, taking down his fake Crow brothers.

"While the tree was funny, I must say it is nice to get back to basics," Zevran called, sweeping his leg under one of the wolves and knocking it to the ground as Serena moved to knock it out with the hilt of her dagger. The assassin looked around quickly, taking stock of the battle. "That's two down, two to go."

Swiftrunner was nearby, and they moved to engage him as they heard him howl again. Out of nowhere, a giant white wolf crashed down on top of Serena, knocking the breath out of her. It swiped an enormous paw at Zevran, who slid out of its way. The werewolves scrambled around it to gather their fallen, and quick as it had come, the white wolf led them away into the ruins.

The assassin cursed in Antivan and kneeled down beside Serena, his amber eyes checking her for wounds. "You were not bitten, were you, my dear?"

"Serena! Oh, Maker, that wolf-" Alistair moved beside her and Serena clutched at his hand. "Was that Witherfang?"

Serena shook her head. "I... think so. It was white, anyway. And no, not bitten." With help from Alistair and Zevran, she stood up on wobbly legs. "Damn heavy wolf... goodness..." She dusted the dirt off her leathers and groaned, her ribs burning. "Wynne..."

The older mage looked up from tending Leliana, who had been clawed across her arm and was having the deep scratches healed. Serena staggered over to where they were, plopping back down on the ground beside the bard. She grasped her hand as the redhead gave Serena a strained smile. "Lucky us, hmm, Serena?"

"Yeah, lucky us." The blue healing magic coated her from head to toe and Serena heard the delicate pops as her ribs reformed inside her chest. "Oh, oh, ouch... ahhh. You know, for all their talk of _us_ killing, and the _Dalish_ killing... I only knocked one of them out..."

"I hadn't even time to pull an arrow before they were on me," Leliana said, her eyes on her shoulder as the deep claw marks closed up and became pinkish scars, and then white scars, and then simply clear white flesh. "You are amazing, Wynne."

"Thank you, dears," the older mage replied, smiling. "I wish this wasn't necessary, but..." She sighed, looking at the ruin.

"Are both my pretty ladies ready to go again?" Zevran asked, standing uneasily by as they were healed. Serena nodded, pushing up on her hands to stand. Her eyes met Alistair's and she moved towards him, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Nothing permanent," she whispered in his ear. "Couple of busted ribs, that's all."

"Thank the Maker," he replied, equally quiet. His hand was rubbing her back soothingly. "It's like you have some magic target on your back or something."

"Tell me about it."


	43. Chapter 43

**Author's Note:** So, it's about time we get a point of view that isn't from our little love birds, no? Gotta catch up on all those thoughts and feelings other people are having around the camp. Anywho. Thanks to everyone reviewing and following along! You're all wonderful, and I'm so glad you're enjoying the story.

The "Antivan" that Zevran speaks in this chapter (and any subsequent chapters) is spanish. While the country of Antivan is modeled off real-world Italy, the language is a mix of spanish words, basically. So, for lack of an Antivan dictionary, it's spanish directly!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 43<span> – _A Pang in Your Chest_

The ruins were elven, or so they soon discovered, which made since, considering the propensity for the Dalish to cross this way. Hours of winding tunnels filled with everything from werewolves, to giant spiders, to ancient trap mechanisms, and they'd eventually come upon a door that appeared to lead to the werewolves main lair, but was barred from the inside. Instead of forcing them on through the night, Serena had suggested they camp in the ruins for a few hours, get some sleep in shifts, and pick up the chase afterwards.

The ruins, however, were riddled with secret passages, dead ends, and crumbling spider tunnels, most of which were filled with not-so-crumbling spiders, that by the time they finally set down, Zevran found himself wishing they'd decided to camp outside in the forest instead.

After a quick dinner of leftover rabbit jerky and rolls from the night before, Zevran sat down on his bedroll to start first watch with Leliana. Casually glancing around the group, he noticed the two Wardens were nearby, sharing a bedroll. Usually, they were relatively secretive with their relationship, but he supposed after their hurried declarations of love days before, and the many times both of them had been near-death in the last weeks, the two given up most of their pretenses. Even now, Alistair's arm was lying protectively around their unofficial leader as both of them dozed quietly. Her hound slept a short distance from their feet, already snoring away.

"Almost makes you feel like you've eaten too many sweets, doesn't it?" Zevran murmured. He saw Leliana follow his gaze and she grinned at the sleeping pair.

"I think they are adorable," the bard replied, scooting up next to Zevran, her arms wrapping around her legs. "It has been rough for both of them... they have lost so much. It's sweet when you can find someone to... to accept you, unconditionally."

Zevran turned amber eyes on the redhead, his eyebrow arched. "Such an interesting statement to make, my dear. I wonder, have you ever found such sweetness?"

"I thought I had... things do not always work out the way we intend them to, though. It was a long time ago, besides." Leliana shrugged her slight shoulders, her head resting on her knees. "What about you, Zevran? Any special ladies in your life? Or men."

"Ah, ha, no… no, no. I give just as much of myself as I am comfortable, I believe." Zevran rolled a dagger in his hands, a nervous habit he'd never been able to break. "I... once had feelings for a... coworker, you could say. It did not end well."

Leliana inched her hand over to his, grasping it gently, her eyes soft in the darkened ruins. "What happened?"

Zevran glanced at her, and then at the sleeping Wardens. Perhaps it was time to tell someone... what did he have to lose anyway? He was basically a dead man walking.

"It... it was my last mission in Antiva, before I took the contract on the Wardens. My friend, Taliesen, a fellow Crow, agreed to be part of my team on this most difficult mission, as well as an elven lass named Rinna." Zevran sighed. "She was... a marvel."

"Tough, smooth, wicked. Eyes that gleamed like justice. Everything I thought I desired... Rinna was special. I had closed off my heart, I thought, but she touched something within me. It frightened me. When Taliensen revealed to me that Rinna had accepted a bribe from the mark, told him of our plan, I readily agreed that she needed to pay the price and allowed Taliesen to kill her."

Zevran sighed again, his hand unintentionally squeezing Leliana's. "Rinna begged me not to. On her knees, with tears in her eyes, she told me that she loved me and had not betrayed us. I laughed in her face and said that even if it were true, _I didn't care_."

"Taliesen cut her throat, and I watched her bleed as she stared up at me. I spat on her for betraying the Crows," Zevran whispered.

He heard Leliana gasp, and her hand tightened on his. "When we had finally assassinated the mark, we found the true source of his information. Rinna... had not betrayed us after all... I wanted to tell the Crows what we had done, but Taliesen convinced me not to. He said it would be a foolish waste, and I was so cocky and arrogant back then... what did I care, truly? So we reported that Rinna had died in the attempt."

"We needn't have bothered. The Crows knew what we had done. One of the masters told me the Crows knew... and they didn't care. And one day, my turn would come. After that... I wanted... I wanted to _die_. And what better way than to throw myself at one of the fabled Grey Wardens? Of course, lucky me, it did not go as I had hoped."

They both turned, glancing once again at the sleeping Wardens, even in sleep their love and contentment in each other was so plain. It made Zevran's heart ache to think of Rinna, seeing the two Wardens like that. What he had so easily thrown away... What he had _spat_ on, in his arrogance and disgust.

"She showed you mercy," Leliana said quietly. The almost musical tone of her voice made his stomach clinch tightly, but he ignored it.

"Serena has shown many mercy, especially those who do so little to deserve it... I wonder perhaps if it is not because she herself was shown none by the man who murdered her family." The assassin sighed. "Regardless, I owe her a great debt." Zevran shrugged, his fingers were tracing lines on Leliana's hand, unbidden. With a small shake, he pulled away, smirking. "Yes, so, that is my sad tale of lost love. It seems I am full of sad tales of late."

"I think perhaps you are too hard on yourself, Zevran. Sometimes... watching them together... I am reminded that we can always find love, in the darkest of places, even when we may feel we are undeserving of such things." Leliana stroked Zevran's cheek affectionately, and the assassin smiled at her, cupping her hand to his cheek. They sat like that for a long time, simply enjoying the quiet and each other's company, until eventually Serena stirred.

Reluctantly, Zevran pulled away from the bard, straightening his shoulders as he watched Serena gently place a kiss on Alistair's still sleeping form. He wondered absently if he would ever be able to allow himself that sort of comfort, if perhaps he could even find it with Leliana.

"Thanks for keeping watch, you two. If you want to grab some sleep..." Serena motioned to their bedrolls and shrugged. "I was going to wake up Ser Sleeps-Too-Much over here in a few minutes." She grinned at Alistair, tapping him gently with her foot. In response, the man simply rolled over, murmuring softly about five more minutes.

"Quite the catch you have there, Warden." Zevran smirked, stretching his muscles as he pushed out his own bedroll. Beside him, Leliana had already slipped under her blanket; pulling it up high so only the tip of her fiery red hair was visible.

"Don't I know it," Serena replied, kneeling down beside her fellow Warden and poking him. Quick as a whip, Alistair's hand snaked out and grabbed her arm, pulling her down onto him. She giggled with glee, collapsing on top of him as he wrapped her up in the blanket, muffling her laughter.

"I'm not _deaf_, you know," Alistair said quietly. He pulled the blanket from over Serena and stroked her hair affectionately. "You know you deserved that." She nodded happily, kissing his nose, and Zevran felt the familiar pang in his chest again.

"See you a few hours, Wardens," he called, turning his back on them to curl up in his own bedroll.

He threw his blanket over his head, but could still hear the two of them whispering quietly to each other on their own blanket. Normally, their happiness at simply being around each other would have been infectious for him, drawing him into a jovial mood, but now...

He shouldn't have told Leliana that story, perhaps. It had been a long time since he'd thought of Rinna... and even after all these months, his action, or rather, his _inaction_, still burned within him. Despite his exhaustion, he knew it would be awhile before any sort of sleep would take him, if it did at all.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, they were all back up and ready to move on. It was tough to tell from within the ruins themselves, but between Leliana and Serena, they were able to surmise it was a little past four in the morning.<p>

"And so we are hoping to... get the drop on whatever beasties happen to be sleeping right now, I imagine?" Alistair had his shield out, raised slightly, to protect from what Serena assumed were spiders coming down from the ceiling. Just a hundred paces from their camp and they'd already run into two more giant webs, and she could tell everyone was on edge. Even Serena's normally exuberant mabari seemed subdued; his tiny tail was between his legs.

"Do spiders sleep?" Leliana asked. Her nose wrinkled as they passed down the hall. "They certainly smell bad enough."

"That's not the spiders, my dear." Zevran kicked carelessly at a pile of filthy rags and a few bones spilled out. Serena watched as the skeletal hand jerked, her eyes going wide.

"Oh, no... no, no... Zevran..." Serena gestured wildly, reaching for the assassin. "Get over here-"

With a wrenching scream, the skeleton rose from the ground, its torn arm crawling along the floor towards them on its own. Excited by it's fellows cry, more skeletons pulled themselves up from the dirt and out of the crypts that lined the walls, their bones clanking and clicking.

Serena pulled her daggers as she heard the clang of Alistair's shield connecting with bone, crunching the reanimated corpse to the ground. Serena kicked out, knocking the skull right off the body of another ghoul. Her mabari ran forward, launching his thick body at the skeleton reaching for Zevran, ripping it apart in midair.

"¿Qué está sucediendo?" The elven assassin cried out, his surprise pushing his native tongue out of him. Zevran pulled his daggers, sliding them across the closest figure, its bones scattering to the ground in pieces. "¡Éstos son muertos!"

"Of course they're dead bodies, Zevran!" Serena cried, her knowledge of Antivan severely limited. "Kill them!" Heeding her own advice, she spun, slamming her dagger into another skeleton. Kicking out her foot, she realized one of the fallen bodies was now trying to cling to her boot and she shrieked, shaking it off furiously.

"There are too many of them!" Leliana shouted, her own swords out, swishing in a flurry. Beside her, Alistair knocked another skeleton into the wall as Morrigan flung a hand out, a ball of ice freezing another attacker in its tracks.

"Morrigan, freeze them, then all of you... get down!" Alistair's yell echoed through the corridor, and Serena grabbed Zevran by the scruff, pulling him down next to Leliana. She could see Morrigan throw out her arms again, a cone of frost covering the oncoming ghouls. Alistair nodded once to her, then motioned to the huge qunari. "Sten! Great sword!"

Like a thundering giant, the qunari held his great sword out in front of him, barreling down the narrow passageway, pushing all the partially frozen corpses to the end of the hall. With a great push, he crushed the lot of them as they exploded in bits of blood and icy slush.

"Now, there are less of them."

Serena pulled herself up from the ground, slightly stunned from how quickly everything had happened around her. She looked to Alistair; her shock still must have been evident on her face because he grinned at her. "Something troubling you, Serena?"

"That... you... you planned that!"

"You did not think we spent all our time discussing sugary confections, did you?" Sten rumbled at her, the ghost of a smile on his face.

"Was that... oh, my goodness..." Serena put a hand over her mouth in mock surprise. "Did Sten just make a _joke?_ I think, oh dear, my poor heart..."

"We should move on," Sten replied.

"No, no, I want to bask in this just a moment longer." Serena sighed happily. "Alright, I'm good. Let's go."

* * *

><p>And so they moved on, the mood a bit lighter now after a solid fight. Advancing through the ruins, they finally ran into the spiders to which the giant webs belonged, although luckily they were in much shorter supply than the reanimated ghouls, and the group was able to make quick work of them with Wynne and Morrigan stunning them first.<p>

Another room held a small stone altar with a glass phylactery that when touched, summoned a few demons. After that, and Wynne's subsequent hour long lecture on magical items and their inherent danger, Serena learned to simply not touch anything that seemed even remotely interesting.

By far the most out of place thing they found in the ruins was the dragon, though. Not much bigger than a horse, Serena had found herself more confused than frightened by the beast.

"I didn't think there still _were_ dragons," Alistair said softly, watching as the dragon hacked pathetically, turning in a circle. They stood at the top of a set of stairs staring down at the scaly monster as it growled and coughed tiny sparks. "Much less small, sickly ones." Serena shrugged, pulling her bow and aiming carefully.

"We could finish this in one shot, if you want," Morrigan said, eyeing Serena's arrow. With a snap of the witch's fingers, Serena watched as the tip of her arrow caught fire and she grinned, launching the flaming arrow at the dragon. The dumb beast opened its mouth to receive the arrow and it promptly exploded; the inside of the dragon's head now becoming the outside.

"Alright, even I have to admit, that was pretty incredible," Alistair said. Morrigan shrugged, as if she did this sort of thing every day, and swept down the staircase in one fluid motion.

"'Tis not even the best part," Morrigan replied, pushing past the downed dragon and starting to root through a pile of objects in a large nest. "Dragons are hoarders by nature." She picked up a set of light elven-made leather armor and tossed it to Serena. "This should fit you."

The companions scoured the dragon's horde, finding weapons, armor, gold, some precious gemstones, and even some health poultices that Wynne was particularly happy about. Between all of them, they were able to pick up everything worth taking, stuffing their packs and knapsacks almost to the brim.

As they pushed into the next passageway, Serena felt Zevran move up beside her, his amber eyes watching her.

"So, my dear, I find myself wondering... where did you learn Antivan?"

"My brother's wife is... _was_... she was from Antiva," Serena murmured. Peanut whined softly beside her, and she stroked his fur as they walked. "Fergus learned it, of course, to court her, and then when they had my nephew Oren, I picked up a working knowledge of the language as Oriana taught him. I understand a lot more than I can speak, and my accent is... laughably bad."

"Everyone's accent in Antiva is laughably bad, do not let it upset you."

"So, other than the few skeletons in the Circle Tower, I'm guessing that was your first fight with reanimated bodies, correct?"

Zevran shrugged. "I... may have been caught off-guard, yes." The assassin glanced at Serena. "I can guess by your devil-may-care attitude that it was, however, not your first encounter with the dead."

"Oh my, no. Redcliffe village would hold that grand distinction, I'm afraid. Before it was the idyllic lakeside village you've come to know and love, the entire place was overrun with walking corpses."

"Uh, the smell!" Leliana pouted. "I could not get that rotting stink out of my clothes for _days_."

"Oh, that's not from the undead, Leliana, just the fish," Alistair quickly quipped, moving past them.

"Mmm, the tower still wins for worst place ever for me," Serena replied, stepping delicately over a downed statue of an elven woman praying. "Demons, blood mages, The Fade, then _more_ demons... maybe a couple abominations tossed in there for flavor... yes, no thank you. No thank you _forever_."

"Ah, Serena?" Alistair poked his head out of the room ahead, his face looking uncertain. "I... think you had better see this." Serena exchanged glances with Leliana and followed her into the room. Morrigan was already inside, peering down into a large pool.

"So... it's a dead end. Why have we stopped?" Serena glanced around. "We should just... look for a door, or something."

"Blocked, they're all blocked." Alistair frowned. "Morrigan believes we have to go... _in there_."

"In where? The water?" Serena saw the dark haired witch nod as she kneeled down beside the pool. "I... no. I don't want to go in there. I'm not going to try to swim in armor. That's just... stupid."

"The first intelligent thing I have heard you say," Sten added, his eerie red eyes gazed upon the pool before them.

"'Tis not water," Morrigan replied. "Watch." She placed a hand into the dark pool, and Serena watched as it disappeared briefly before the witch pulled it back out. "My hand... 'tis not wet. This is some sort of illusion, meant to confuse. The werewolves lie beyond here, I know it."

"Can you be sure?" Leliana asked.

"One can never be sure until one has tried something, so no, I cannot be sure." Morrigan stood. "After all we have faced, I would not think a simple pool would vex you all so."

Alistair scoffed. "I don't see _you_ jumping in, Morrigan."

"Fine, I'll bloody do it," Serena said. She stomped up to the pool and looked down. "But if I'm... eaten... or I disappear... or something, you better believe I'm haunting you from the Fade, Morrigan."

"I'd expect nothing less, Serena," Morrigan replied coolly.

"Sweet Maker, this is insane." Serena dipped a toe in the 'water' and shivered. It was times like these that she hated being the leader. Not even Peanut would come stand next to her, the cowardly hound. If she survived this, Serena promised he was _not_ getting any of her jerky tonight.

"Wait." Alistair stepped forward, his eyes locked on the pool as he grasped her hand tightly. "I'll go with you." With a quick nod of her head, before either could back out, they jumped into the pool, disappearing below the surface.

Zevran peeked over the edge of the pool. "So, should we assume they are not dead or...?" Pushing the assassin aside, Sten dropped into the darkness without a word. "I... guess that solves that. Bottoms up." Plugging his nose, the elf jumped into the pool and disappeared.

Leliana and Wynne grasped hands and moved to the pool next, helping each other into the darkness. "It's so... _cold_," Leliana gasped, letting go of Wynne's hand as she slipped below.

"Will you be taking the dog then?" Wynne asked the other mage as she slipped her legs into the pool, shivering. Morrigan glanced at Peanut, who whined piteously back at her, and rolled her eyes.

"'Twould appear so," the dark haired mage replied testily. She wiggled her fingers peevishly at the older woman. "After you."


	44. Chapter 44

**Author's Note:** A extra long chapter this update. Thanks to everyone reviewing and following along! (You're all amazing!)

So, I took a stab at explaining the "Ranger" specialization for Rogues, because it's not really one you can learn in-game from anyone like Isabela or Zevran or Leliana, and it isn't really explained at all. Just suddenly, inexplicably, you can summon animals... whenever you want. _Oh hai there, giant bear. How YOU doin'? Wanna kill some people for me?_ And that's _weird_. So, slowly but surely, I'm winding my way around that.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 44<span> - _The Lair of the Werewolves_

Traveling through the mysterious pool was bizarre. All Serena could feel was freezing cold all over her body and Alistair's firm grip on her hand, and then quick as it began, they were dropped onto a stone floor in a passageway much like the one they'd just left. Beheaded statues lined the walls, and a few charred bodies were strewn about the floor.

"Great. More dead things," Serena muttered. Alistair pulled her up and they moved over to the only exit from the room, a large metal door. "Why is it never candy littering the ground? Or... delicious smelling bath soaps...?"

With a loud thump, Sten landed behind them, his hand on his sword hilt. "That was unpleasant."

"_That's_ the understatement of the age," said Alistair quietly, rubbing his sore backside.

They stood back as one by one their companions came through the strange portal in the far wall, until finally Morrigan was left dragging a knocked-out mabari behind her.

Serena ran over to her hound, cradling the poor dog in her arms. "Peanut! What happened? Is he okay?"

"The mutt is fine," Morrigan replied, brushing dog hair off her robes. "I had to put him to sleep to get him to come through the pool."

"Marvelous how the dog will down a decaying corpse without a second thought, but any sort of magic causes him to freeze on site," Zevran remarked.

"It's not the magic, it's the heights." Serena stroked the dog's fur as Peanut slowly came around again. "Isn't it, boy? You just don't like jumping from high up, do you? You're just a big old softy, aren't you?" She scratched his ears fondly as the hound slowly got up, giving Serena a tentative slurp on the cheek. "That's a good boy, yes, no more sleepy time."

Serena straightened, regarding her companions. "Assuming this door opens, we should be ready for anything. It could be werewolf city in there."

"Ugh, flea heaven," Alistair murmured, pulling his sword from its sheath. Serena saw her companions follow him in kind as she pushed open the metal door and walked inside.

Serena peered about the room, taking in the enormous crumbling columns. It looked like it had once been a throne room of some sort. Did the elves even have royalty? Ah, questions for another time, she told herself quickly. Perhaps when they _weren't_ constantly fighting for their lives. Alistair came up beside her, his sword still held at the ready, as they started down to the main floor.

"I don't like it in here," Leliana called from near the entrance. "I think we should go back. I have a _very_ bad feeling-"

With a snarl, a pack of werewolves leapt from the shadowy corners of the room, surrounding their party on three sides. Serena felt Alistair push himself in front of her as one of the wolves bolted for them, pouncing on top of Alistair as he moved to block it with his shield. The werewolf flailed as he slammed it to the ground, bringing his sword around to cut into its chest.

All around them the wolves were flinging themselves forward, snarling and howling. Serena saw Sten take on two of them himself as Leliana pulled back, her bow in hand, shooting arrow after arrow across the room. Beside her, Wynne casted a glowing rune on the ground that kept the wolves away from them. Zevran was cursing in Antivan as he fought his own opponent near Serena as she and Alistair engaged two more wolves, Serena's blades cutting deep into the furry flesh.

"Serena!" She felt Alistair grab her arm and fling her away as a werewolf leapt from atop one of the toppled columns and bared down on him, jaws gaping. Serena shrieked in horror as the wolf bit down on Alistair's shoulder, once, twice, the two of them rolling across the floor, Alistair desperately trying to pull the wolves' head from him as blood droplets sprayed from both.

"_Alistair! No!_" Serena screamed and she sprinted for them, barreling into the hairy beast with her daggers out. She felt the wolf roll under her as they tumbled across the floor, her blades hitting any fur she could reach. She felt its hot blood cover her as she screamed, over and over, unable to stop herself.

"No! No! Never!" She kicked the wolf into the air with her feet, launching it across the room as it collided with a column, leaving a bloody smear down the side. Filled with rage, Serena rolled, gathering her legs under her to sweep another wolf off its feet and slammed her dagger down hard into its skull as it yelped.

Two more wolves came at her, Alistair forgotten now, and she flipped backwards, landing a kick into the first one's muzzle. It howled and she threw one of her daggers at its face, landing it neatly in its eye as it dropped to the ground. In one smooth motion she dipped to the ground, grabbing the dagger back and brought it up into the middle of the second wolf, ripping it through its chest. The werewolf clawed at her arms, but she held on, pulling the dagger all the up to the fiend's neck. The wolf's innards spilled out across her as she kicked it back to the ground, panting for breath.

Her adrenaline spent, Serena turned, her eyes wide and frightened. Finding his prone form, she collapsed at Alistair's side, her hands going to his shoulder as he gasped in pain. "It's okay, it's my… I can... I can... oh, Maker, _it hurts so_ _much_..."

Serena pulled one of the health poultices from her pack in a rush and pressed it to his ruined shoulder, her eyes burning as tears slid down her face. She pressed harder to the wound as he rocked beneath her hands, holding tightly to her arms, as the healing compound did... nothing.

"No, no, this... no, you couldn't... Wynne... any- please..." Serena felt herself nearing hysterics as she held the poultice to his bleeding shoulder. The exposed skin was quickly turning veiny and black, as if the wolf's poison were already taking hold. Alistair's eyes were closing and she shook him, her tears falling on his cheeks. Was she crying? She must be crying. Why couldn't she stop crying?

His blood was dripping steadily onto the ground now, covering her hands, covering the shreds of his splintmail armor. "Please, no, wake up, you _have_ to... Alistair, no! _WYNNE!_" This couldn't be happening. This was _not_ happening...

The older mage ran to them, the blue healing magic already pushing its way from her body into Alistair. "Please, please, Wynne, tell me he's okay. He's okay, right? He's fine, he's fine!" She felt hands pull her away as Zevran gripped her tightly, her body clawing at the dirty stones to go back to Alistair.

"No! No! Alistair!" Her fingers clutched at the ground as she cried out, pulling desperately as the assassin held her tight. "Please, just let me-" She could see Wynne working quickly as Morrigan joined her, adding her own healing magic to speed up the process.

"No… no, he can't... _Alistair, don't leave me!_" Serena's face was anguished as she clawed the ground, screaming, trying to find a grip to pull herself out of Zevran's hold. Her chest was heaving, her eyes wild and crazed. "I have to... please! Please, Zevran, let me go, he could- he could..."

"Come on, Serena, you can't hover over them, you have to let them fix him," Zevran said calmly, thankful she wasn't any stronger otherwise he wouldn't have been able to hold her back while the mages worked. Leliana came to help him, her hands working expertly to gather Serena's bloody hands back.

"_He will not die_, Serena," the bard whispered fiercely in Serena's ear, and Zevran felt all her energy drop out as the bard stroked Serena's head gently. "Alistair is _tough_, he will make it through this."

"He will? He will... He can't go..." Serena nodded her head, her eyes still streaming tears as she leaned on Leliana, her body going limp in Zevran's arms. "I love him so much, Leli... He _can't _die... He can't leave me. I... I..." Her words trailed off into hiccuped sobs as she buried her face in Leliana's shoulder.

"He won't, dear heart, I promise." Leliana put her arms around Serena's broken form and Zevran felt his heart twist at the sight of their leader looking so utterly lost. It had only been hours ago when the two Wardens had been smiling and laughing with each other... Barely a care in the world, or so it seemed.

The assassin glanced over at the man in question and saw to his own relief, Alistair was breathing again, albeit raggedly. Wynne and Morrigan were whispering over his fallen form, and the word 'infected' caught in his ear.

"I'm… ugh… f-f-fine," Alistair coughed out, his voice cracking unpleasantly. He groaned as Wynne helped him to sit up. "I... just... it was just a scrape. Bit of a... scratch. I'm fine." Like a hawk, Serena's head swung towards Alistair at the sound of his voice and she crawled away from Leliana and Zevran, touching Alistair lightly. Zevran watched as the two stared at each other for a long moment, something silent passing between them, before they wrapped their arms around each other, Alistair wincing slightly, but refusing to let go of her.

"I'm fine, Serena. I'm fine. Look, Wynne and M-Morrigan... It's okay, Serena, please don't cry..." Alistair gently rocked her in his arms as her mabari came by and gave him a big wet lick. "It'll take more than some... overgrown furbag to... to knock me out, my lady." His voice cracked again, making the joke sound oddly pitched. Over Serena's shoulder, Zevran could see Alistair's mask of respite break as worry creased his forehead. So he _had_ heard the mages, then, and was keeping it from her.

"We should get to this Witherfang, immediately," the elven assassin said, his voice unusually hard. He saw Leliana look at him sharply and he frowned. "This has gone on long enough."

* * *

><p>They found the werewolves rapidly enough, Zevran leading them through the passageways quickly. Since his... incident... with the werewolves Serena hadn't let Alistair out of her sight; her blue eyes were constantly searching him, examining the wounds on his neck and shoulder that still refused to heal properly. The upper portion of his armor was nearly in tatters, torn apart by the wolves' claws and teeth, and Alistair couldn't help but feel the chill against his rapidly burning skin.<p>

The worry in Serena's face was blatant, but she said nothing, and Alistair couldn't blame her. He knew, somewhere deep down, she did not believe his whispered reassurances that everything was fine, but was trying to be a good leader, to not alarm the rest of their companions.

_Infected_. That's what Wynne had whispered, and Morrigan's cold yellow eyes had confirmed the diagnosis as she stared down at his wounds. Was it pity he saw there in that moment? Pity for the man she could barely stand. Alistair never thought he'd live to see the day when the daughter of the dreaded Witch of the Wilds would feel any empathy for _him_.

In the large chamber before them the group of werewolves stood, the injured Swiftrunner with them, and Alistair could feel his blood boil at the sight of them. Serena gripped his hand, and he had to will himself not to tremble with the rage that was burning inside him. He would _not _become one of them!

"Stop! Brothers and sisters, be at ease!" The shaggy werewolf held up his paws and Alistair watched as Serena released his hand and stepped forward. "We do not wish any more of our people hurt. I ask you this now, outsider... are you willing to parley?"

"Yes," Serena said simply. Her body looked tiny standing in front of the massive wolves. "Take me to the Lady of the Forest."

"You know of the Lady?" the werewolf asked.

"I do. I wish to discuss a truce. I will not hurt her. There has been enough of that already." Serena bowed her head and Alistair saw a small shiver run down her spine. "Please, take me to her."

"Follow me," breathed the wolf. "But I warn you, if you break your promise and harm her, I will come back from the Fade itself to see you pay."

Serena nodded solemnly, following the werewolves through a door and up some steps into an even larger room. Unlike the rest of the ruins, this room must have been nearer to the surface, as trees and vines covered the walls, the forest working hard to reclaim the wreckage for itself.

The rest of the party followed further behind, Leliana moving in to support Alistair as they walked. He already missed Serena's warmth at his other side, and a slight tremor seemed to take over where she had stood. He could feel the eyes of the werewolves on him and their group, watching him closely, growls low in their throats.

"You are being very brave for her, Alistair," Wynne said quietly as she stepped up beside him, resting a hand on his arm. He felt her healing magic soak into his skin, but it did nothing to ease his anxiety. "I thought, perhaps I wanted to believe, that this was simply a... physical attraction gone awry. Young people can be so impetuous sometimes... But I was wrong. I... apologize... for doubting you two." The older woman bowed her head. "I just wanted to say something before… well... Before it was too late to do so."

Alistair glanced at the older woman, then his eyes unconsciously swung back to Serena. She was nearly to the dais where the majority of the wolves stood. "Thank you, Wynne." He knew she meant well, but... he shivered with the morbidity of her apology. The mage patted his arm again in response, smiling sadly as she moved away.

They watched as a greenish woman with long dark hair came to stand between the wolves on the dais. She had strange vines twining up her legs to cover her body, and her hands ended almost in branching tendrils, as if she were made of the forest itself. One touch from her, and all of the werewolves went silent, and Alistair felt a chill creep up his own spine, causing him to shiver again.

"I bid you welcome, mortal. I am the Lady of the Forest."

"Thank you, my Lady. I am Serena. We have come to discuss the curse that infects your people, that infects the Dalish..."

"And now infects your people, too, Serena," the Lady replied. Her dark eyes glazed over the companions, landing on Alistair. Well, so much for trying not to worry Serena, he thought bitterly.

"You cannot listen to her, Lady! She will betray you! We must attack her now!"

"Hush, Swiftrunner," the Lady whispered. "Your urge for battle has only seen the death of the very ones you have been trying to save. Is that what you want?"

"No, my lady." Swiftrunner bowed his head in shame. "Anything but that."

"Then the time has come to speak with this outsider, to set our rage aside. I apologize on Swiftrunner's behalf, he still struggles with his nature."

A tear slipped down Serena's cheek, and Alistair could hear the sadness in her voice as she spoke to the strange woman. "As do we all, dear Lady." Maker, he wished more than anything he could be beside her right now. That he had the strength to go to her… As it was, without Leliana, he would barely be able to stand on his own.

"Truer words were never spoken. But few could claim the same as these creatures. That their very nature is a curse forced upon them." The Lady of the Forest glanced at her brethren with her strange opaque eyes, then back at Serena. "I am glad you have come, mortal. I sensed you in the forest; your capacity for empathy is quite great. I had hoped you would be able to help us, to understand our plight. No doubt you have questions, however. There are... things that Zathrian has not told you."

"I had assumed as much," Serena replied. "It is true he sent us here, to find the source of the curse that now infects the Dalish. That... that now infects my love. But that isn't all of it, is it?"

"No. It was Zathrian who _created_ the curse that these creatures suffer, that now causes so many to suffer. Centuries ago, when the Dalish first came to this land, a tribe of humans lived close to this forest. They sought to drive the Dalish away." The Lady's voice was almost hypnotic, and Alistair felt his body ease at the sound of her voice. "Zathrian was a young man then. He had a son and a daughter he loved greatly, and while out hunting, the human tribe captured them both."

"The humans... tortured the boy, killed him," Swiftrunner added. "The girl they raped and left for dead. The Dalish found her, but she learned later she was... with child. She... killed herself." The werewolf's head dropped, and the Lady stroked his fur gently. "Zathrian came to this ruin and summoned a terrible spirit, binding it to the body of a great wolf. So Witherfang came to be."

"Witherfang hunted the humans of the tribe. Many were killed, but others..." Again the werewolves all seemed to look at Alistair, and he stepped back, feeling their curse burn in his veins, fighting with the darkspawn taint. "Others were cursed by his blood, becoming twisted and savage creatures."

"They were driven into the forest. When the human tribe finally left for good, their cursed brethren remained, pitiful and mindless animals." The Lady peered about, her eyes still opaque, almost unseeing. "I showed Swiftrunner that there was another side to his bestial nature. I soothed his rage, and his humanity emerged. And he brought others to me."

"And so you waited for the Dalish to return," Serena said quietly. There was no contempt in her voice; she was simply stating a fact. "To ambush them... to force Zathrian's hand, as it were."

"We seek to end the curse, this is true. The crimes committed against Zathrian's children were grave, but they were committed centuries ago by those who are long dead." The greenish woman shook her head. "Word was sent to Zathrian every time the landships passed this way, asking him to come, but he has always ignored us. We will no longer be denied."

"We spread the curse to his people!" Swiftrunner bellowed savagely. "So he must come and end the curse to save them!"

"Please, mortal... I can sense your connection to the Forest within... you must understand, please... go to him, bring him here. If he sees these creatures, hears their plight as you have, surely he will agree to end the curse! It is the only way to cure your people, as well."

"Yes, he will no longer be able to refuse us. I will _make_ him see reason." Alistair saw Serena glance back at him briefly, her eyes locked onto his shoulder. He cursed silently to himself, knowing he probably shouldn't have even bothered to try to hide it.

"Thank you, dear girl," the Lady said quietly. "In return for your help, I offer you a gift, to aid you through the forest." The strange woman reached out, and Alistair saw Serena kneel before her as her branching fingers touched her forehead. The buzz of energy rumbled in his blood, and Alistair watched in horror as Serena's head fell back, her arms falling limp at her sides as a greenish light pulsed from the Lady's hands, pushing into her skin.

"Serena! _Serena!_" Leliana and Zevran held him back as Serena stood again and turned, her eyes glowing white. He could see the quick flash of vines pattern across her skin, and then it was gone as swiftly as it'd come. "What did you _do_ to her?"

"The power to touch those around us, to understand the forest, was already inside her," The Lady called to him. "And now she can _control_ it. Mold it to her will. I have made her more powerful this way. The Forest will know her; it will _respect_ her." The Lady of the Forest turned back to Serena, pointing to a door. "Outside of this chamber, the passage leading back to the surface has been opened for you. Return with Zathrian as soon as you can."

"Yes, my Lady," Serena replied, curtsying gently. "Morrigan, please come with me, if you will."

The dark haired witch glanced at the others, shrugging. Her golden eyes found Alistair's and she nodded to him. "She will come to no harm with me." Alistair nodded back weakly, his blood was starting to burn in earnest now... had Zevran and Leliana not been holding him, he probably would have collapsed to the floor long ago.

He watched as Serena and Morrigan left the chamber, his body sagging into itself. Leliana helped him to the ground, putting a soft hand to his forehead. "You are burning up, Alistair... Wynne, could you…?"

"Mad and hairy," he murmured. "I can feel it push through my _veins_..." He coughed, and saw red splatter the ground. "Oh, Maker... don't let her see me like this, Leliana..." He felt the cooling touch of Wynne's magic soak into him again, but it wasn't helping. The fever had already set in. Alistair was going to become one of them, he just knew it.

"Alistair, stay with us, Serena will be back soon." The bard pushed his sweat-soaked hair away, her blue eyes looking pained. Alistair dropped his head to avoid her gaze. Those blue eyes looked so much like Serena's... He gasped, his lungs burning suddenly. How horrible he must look now... so pale and sickly... he felt like he was slowly dying, being turned inside out from the curse raging through his body.

Minutes passed like hours for Alistair as he lay on the ground, his body losing control of itself. He could felt his cuts bleeding freely again, Wynne's magic only able to help so much... The curse would not allow him to heal until… until he changed… He knew that now... Could feel the truth of it inside his very bones.

The side door banged open again and Zathrian strolled in, flanked on either side by Serena and a large black wolf that could only be Morrigan. The elven keeper marched onto the dais, fury rolling off of him in waves.

"Serena... how did you all return so soon? Their camp is hours away..." Alistair could hear Leliana's voice just barely, everything sounded so far away now. Was he going deaf too? Or was this just part of the curse's madness?

"Zathrian was in the ruins," Serena replied. Her eyes flicked back to the Dalish leader. "Waiting for us."

"So, here you are, spirit," spat Zathrian. Immediately Swiftrunner ran to the green woman's side, straightening himself to his full height so he towered over the elf.

"She is the Lady of the Forest! _You_ will address her properly!"

"You've taken a name, spirit?" Zathrian spat out. "And you've given names to your pets? These... beasts who follow you?"

"It was they who gave me a name, Zathrian," the Lady replied, her voice infinitely cool compared to the rage-filled Dalish man. "And the names they take are their own. They follow me because I help them to find who they are."

The elf laughed cruelly, his eyes narrowed in hate. "Who they are has not changed from whom their ancestors were! Wild savages! _Worthless dogs!_ Their twisted shape only mirrors their monstrous hearts! Discontent with infecting my clan, I see you have taken more hostages in your sick game!"

"He will not help us, Lady!" Swiftrunner cried, appealing to the forest spirit. "It is as I warned you! He is not here to talk!"

"No, I am here to talk, though I see little point in it," Zathrian replied, his lip curling in disgust. "We all know where this will lead. Your nature compels it, as does mine."

The forest spirit shook her head sadly, as if the elven man was simply acting like a child. "It does not have to be that way. There is room in your heart for compassion, Zathrian. It has been centuries. Surely your retribution is spent."

"My retribution is _eternal_, spirit, as is my pain! This is justice, no more."

"Justice? May I show you what your justice now looks like, Zathrian?" Serena's voice sounded close, and suddenly Alistair could feel her, smell her wonderful scent. She was pulling him, lifting him, her and another, and then they stopped.

"Look into his face." Serena's voice was baleful, snapping through the room like lightning. "This is the man that I _love_, and now _he_ has the curse swimming in his blood. Tell me to my face that _this is_ _justice_. I did not harm your family! We did nothing but offer to help your people, and you have the nerve to tell me this is justice?"

The elf looked indifferently on Alistair, shrugging his shoulders. "I am... sorry you were dragged into this, but the boy's... affliction... is easily solved and you know it!"

"I _do_ know it. We _all_ know it, Zathrian," Serena said, and her voice was laced with steel. "Let go of your hate. You built this curse, you alone can end it. For your people, for mine, for everyone."

"And such a powerful curse it is," The Lady added. "Such _powerful_ magic. Witherfang and I are bound as one, but such powerful magic could not be accomplished without Zathrian's own blood." The spirit paused, and Serena saw the elf look down in shame. "Your people believe you have rediscovered the immortality of their ancestors, Zathrian, but that is not true. So long as the curse exists, _so do you_."

"No, that is not how it is!" Zathrian cried. He turned to Serena as she held Alistair in her arms. "I... it..."

Serena stroked Alistair's hair; tears were now falling down her face again as she held his haggard body in her arms. "How far will you go for your revenge, Zathrian? Will you let him die?"

"I did it for my people! I did it for my son, and my daughter! For them, for justice... I would do anything!" The elf backed away from them all, and Serena could see him putting up walls behind his eyes to block out their voices of reason.

"The curse would not end with Zathrian's death," the forest spirit said. "His life, however, relies on its existence. And I believe his death plays a part in its ending."

"What would you gain from killing me? Only _I_ know how the ritual ends, and I will never do it!"

"You even hold back your own people from the cure," Zevran called the elven man. "To not help strangers, I could forgive, but the Dalish as well? Your own brothers and sisters... This is not what a true leader does."

Serena looked up miserably at the centuries old keeper. "I am pleading with you, Zathrian... the world is so much bigger than your individual pain; surely you know this! I know you have it in you to find mercy... please, if you could only..."

"Enough! I will hear no more of this!" He pointed a stern finger at Serena. "You have chosen to side with the beasts, and _all _of you will suffer as you deserve!" He whipped his staff around and Serena felt her body immediately stiffen as Zathrain paralyzed them with a spell. She and Alistair fell to the ground, unable to support each other's weight, and she watched as Sten came from behind, lifting them both easily.

"I do not know if you can hear me, but I will kill him for you, if you'd like," Sten said in his slow, dispassionate voice. He set them down and turned away, returning to the battle at hand. Serena watched in horror as Zathrian called the trees to his aid, and they bore down upon her companions and the werewolves both.

Swiftrunner, Zevran, and some of the werewolves that had been standing near Zathrian were likewise frozen in place, as the remaining combatants attacked the Dalish leader and his band of living trees. Morrigan, still in her wolf form, launched herself at him, ripping his robes straight across as her claws bore down on the elven man. She could see blood color the shape-shifter's mouth.

Sten crashed into the trees; his sword scattering leaves and branches as he cut them down systematically. Leliana had her bow out again, covering Wynne as she ran to Serena, already weaving a counter spell to their paralysis.

Quickly, Serena found feeling return to her limbs as she shook her shoulders out. Propping Alistair against the wall carefully, she sprinted past Wynne with a shouted "Protect him!" as she headed for the Dalish leader, her daggers already out. With a flying kick, she landed on the elf's back, pushing him to the ground, his staff flying out of his hand.

"You threaten the lives of those I hold dear," Serena whispered fiercely, kneeling hard on his back. "_Yield now_."

"No, no more. I... I cannot... cannot defeat you." Zathrian struggled to get up, and Serena pressed down with her knee, pushing his face back against the stones. "I... I yield."

"Finish it!" Swiftrunner shouted. Serena saw that Zevran and the others had been released by Wynne's spell now as well. "Kill him now!" The werewolf lunged forward, his eyes on the fallen elf.

"No! Don't kill him! Please, Lady, stop him!" Leliana's call came from a few feet away, where she was holding Alistair between herself and Wynne. "Please, he has to help us! Our friend will die!"

The forest spirit put out a hand, and Serena saw the werewolf howl, but move towards her no further. "No, Swiftrunner. We will not kill him. If there is no room in our hearts for mercy, how may we expect there to be room in his?"

Serena rolled off the man's back, picking him up roughly by his robes. "Hasn't this gone on long enough, Zathrian?"

"P-perhaps... I have... lived too long. This hatred in me is like an ancient, gnarled root... It has consumed my soul." The bald man looked over the werewolves, then at Alistair. "What of you, spirit? You are bound to the curse just as I am. Do you not fear your end?"

"You are my maker, Zathrian," the Lady replied. "You gave me form and consciousness where none existed. I have known pain and love, hope and fear, all the joy that is life. Yet of all things... I desire nothing more than an _end_. I beg you, maker... put an end to me. _We_ beg you... show mercy."

"You... shame me, spirit. I am... an old man, alive long past his time..." The elf shook his head, as if he couldn't believe that he was saying the words coming out of his mouth.

"Then you will do it? You will end the curse?"

"Yes," Zathrian sighed. "I think it is time. Let us... let us put an end to it all." Zathrian raised his staff and a blueish-green light erupted out, covering all in the room, and then the elf fell to his knees, pitching forward, his eyes blank and staring.

"Did he...?" Serena ran to Alistair, her arms wrapping around him as he sagged against her. "Are you...?"

The Lady of the Forest sighed, and a bright light enveloped her body as Zathrian's magic took hold. Serena could see the werewolves, and now Alistair, were all glowing, shining with the same bright white light. Shutting her eyes against the intensity, she felt Alistair shake in her arms as she struggled to keep hold of him.

"Serena..." Alistair's voice was barely a whisper but Serena could feel the strength coming back into him, he was finally able to hug her back. "I love you, Serena."

"Oh, Maker, Alistair, I thought... I thought I might..." She pulled him close, her face disappearing into his neck as they held each other. "I love you so much."

Around them, where wolves had stood, now bedraggled humans were getting to their feet, tatters of clothing hanging off them as they looked at each other, gripping hands or hugging in delight.

"It's... over. She's gone, and… we're _human_. I can scarcely believe it." A brown haired man stepped forward, touching Serena's shoulder. "_Thank you_. We... we'll never forget you. Any of you." He nodded to them, and then turned back to his fellows.

"We shall leave the forest, I think. Settle among other humans. Our time in this place is done." The other humans were slowly nodding, many still touching their faces as if they couldn't believe their luck.

"Maker be with you all," Serena said tiredly, as the former wolves skittered from the chamber quickly. Serena looked about, she was still holding Alistair's hand, unable, or unwilling, she wasn't sure which, to let him go. Her companions all looked as exhausted as she, and without saying anything, they turned and exited the chamber, heading back to the Dalish camp.


	45. Chapter 45

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing and commenting! It's always fun for me to see people coming along in the story and discovering bits that they enjoy. One of my favorite things to write is banter, _especially_ Alistair, so to see that some of you all are enjoying it too is fantastic.

As a side note, I found out there _are_ names for the months/seasons of the year within the DA universe (courtesy of the DA Player's Guide.) So I'll be using those going forward. Yay.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 45<span> - _Seeking the Scholar_

Lanaya, Zathrian's First, and now the Keeper for the Dalish clan Serena and the others were staying with, ended up being a wonderful replacement for the centuries-old Zathrian. Where his misfortunes had turned him bitter, hateful, and mistrusting, Lanaya saw the world with fresh eyes. After they had returned, Lanaya had immediately sworn the clan's allegiance to the Grey Wardens in helping take down the archdemon. She even sent out a messenger to look for other clans to spread word of the Blight. Serena had been overcome with relief at her words, and had a very good feeling about the clan going forward.

They stayed with the Dalish for another night and day, Alistair recouping quickly along with the elves who had been bitten. When not with Elora, the clan's herder, practicing and learning more about her new abilities, Serena spent time in the hut that had been set-aside for Alistair to heal.

"So, tell me again what Elora had you do?" Alistair asked. Peanut sat beside him as he stroked the dog's fur fondly. "That spirit didn't _possess_ you or anything, right?"

"No, no, nothing like that." Serena paused, pushing out with her mind and felt the presence of a small squirrel. Calling to it, she watched as the little puff of fur hopped into the bungalow and crawled into her open palm. "It's just mediation, more than anything really... I can sense so much more now..." She shrugged, trying to find the words to explain the sensations she felt in the forest now.

"I can just... it's like the wolf, back in the Wilds, you remember? How he just _trusted_ me? I can do that with so many more animals now. It's easiest with smaller ones, like this little guy. The halla seemed to take to me quickly, too. Elora says if I keep doing the meditation techniques, I could learn to summon them to me, wherever I am." The squirrel ran up Serena's arm and perched on her head, staring at her mabari curiously. Peanut stared back plaintively, his large brown eyes openly longing to sniff the little ball of fur.

"Well, I suppose one good thing came out of helping the Dalish, at least," Alistair said. He glanced down at his still-bandaged shoulder. "And since I'm not going to become a werewolf, that's... also good. Granted, I wouldn't have been bitten in the _first_ place if Zathrian hadn't been such a total-"

"Pfft. I know. Lanaya is a jewel compared to that man." Serena sighed, plucking the squirrel off her head and placing him back on the ground. She stood up, scooting Peanut out of the way, and sat down beside Alistair on the cot, snuggling close to him. "You know, I wish this whole 'stopping the Blight' thing came with a handbook or something. I mean, werewolves? Demons? How are we supposed to know how to deal with this stuff?"

"Don't forget the sick little dragon," Alistair added. "Although, we _did_ get new armor out of that..." He ran his hands over Serena's black leathers, fitted especially for her by the clan's armorer, Varathorn. Alistair's own splintmail had been destroyed by the werewolf attack, so the elven craftsman had altered a set they had found in the dragon's nest to fit him, since he was a bit broader in the shoulder than most elven men. "Yours is so much prettier than mine."

"Oh, you don't know that. You've barely been able to wear it yet because of that shoulder. Wynne said later today we can remove the bandages, and then we'll be back on the road by tonight, and _you'll_ be back in fighting shape before you know it." Serena ran her hands through his sandy hair, kissing his cheek softly. "I know it killed you to be cooped up here all day and most of yesterday."

"It's better when you visit me," Alistair whispered, pulling her close. His kissed along her neckline and Serena felt a shiver run through her. "I can't wait until I get these things off."

"Are they really that bad?" she asked, lightly fingering the white wrappings. Her head was tipping back to allow him better access to her skin, a sigh escaping contentedly, as his hands moved to support her neck.

"Mmm… I wasn't talking about the bandages..." He flicked at the straps of her armor, pushing the breastplate down off her and dropping it on the floor. His mouth found hers and they fell back onto the cot, kissing passionately. "You can't believe how good this feels, Serena."

Serena shifted on top of him, her lips moving down his neck. "How good_ this_ feels?"

"No, just... _being_ _human_... with you…" Alistair whispered, holding her close. Serena pulled back, staring deep into his hazel eyes. He looked so vulnerable in that moment, his soul shining out through his eyes at her. She could feel her chest swell with her love for him just then.

"...I'd still love you, even if you were all... what did you call it? Mad and hairy?" Serena kissed his chest lightly. "I'd miss your handsome face terribly, though. You'd look awful covered in fur."

"Ha, I'm not far from it now," Alistair replied, rubbing his stubbly chin thoughtfully. "So, I wonder... a beautiful lady's birthday is coming up _very_ soon, or so a certain redheaded bard let slip to me last night, and I'm curious if you know what she'd like?"

"I wouldn't think you'd care if it were Morrigan's birthday," Serena said slyly.

"I'm pretty sure I said a _beautiful_ _lady_, not a vile fiend, and regardless, if it _were_ her birthday, I'd already know what to get her." Alistair grinned triumphantly. "Did I mention to you how I overheard a conversation of theirs on the road? They were discussing... err, having relations, and Sten said she would... need a helmet for it. And armor."

Serena felt her jaw drop in surprise. "No…!"

"Yes! He said qunari teeth could bite through leather, even _metal_, so she should take _precautions_." Alistair laughed merrily. "Is it bad I kind of hope she has the raw nerve to go through with it? Can you imagine her having bite marks every which way? I bet she'd have to actually wear a _shirt_ once in a while to cover them all up..."

"You two will _never_ get on, will you?" Serena said with a sigh.

"Not when she refers to me as the fool templar... or even better. Yesterday she called me a hapless virgin!" Alistair rolled his eyes, stroking Serena's hair gently. "So, no. We won't ever be sitting down to a cup of tea and having a few scones together."

"_Hapless virgin?_ Oh, see, now _that's _just insulting to both of us..." Serena snuggled down on top of him, careful not to push on his healing shoulder. "To answer your earlier question, I'm not sure what she wants for her birthday." Serena pressed a kiss to his skin. "I think she has everything she wants already."

* * *

><p>Despite the chill in the air as they headed to Denerim, Serena found herself marveling at the foliage as it turned from the Summerday greens to autumn reds and oranges as she rode along in the back of the Feddic's wagon.<p>

The beginning of Funalis had always been Serena's favorite time of year, not only because of her birthday occurring midway in Kingsway, but the many harvest festivals that occurred around Ferelden began around this time as well, continuing all the way into the tenth month, Harvestmere. She wondered if they would have anything like the fair that settled in Highever for the three weeks of harvesting.

"Do you realize you've been smiling for hours now?"

"Hmm?" Serena turned to see Morrigan's golden eyes on her, her own small smile twisting her lips. "Oh, ah. Sorry? Is that... a problem?"

"Not at all, I merely mention it because you seem so... rapturous. Since the last time you and that fool shot glances at each other, in fact." Morrigan's eyes flicked forward and Serena saw her peer at Alistair as he rode along behind the wagon, talking to Zevran and gesturing with his hands. "He must be pleasant enough in bed, for surely I cannot imagine anyone enduring his _conversation_."

"You don't really want to hear about my bedroom antics with Alistair, do you, Morrigan? I could tell you about this _one_ time…"

"No, _no_, that's quite alright. I wish to keep my meal down, thank you," the witch replied, her mouth now pursed in distaste.

"Suit yourself. As for his conversation, Zevran appears to be enduring it just fine," Serena said, arching an eyebrow at the witch.

"Oh, if there could be anything worse in this world than Alistair, it would be that elf." Morrigan made a noise in the back of her throat that sounded a bit like a snort. "So, I am curious, did you have a plan for when we reached the capital? By my estimate, we should arrive in a few hours at most."

"We need to find Brother Genitivi first," Serena said, reaching for her pack. She pulled out her journal and flipped it open to a page with a few scraps of paper tucked in the fold. "We found these on that dead templar back in Lothering, you remember? At the time I didn't put two-and-two together, but they talk about the Urn, and where we can find Genitivi in the capital. He has a house there."

"'Tis as sound a plan as we could have, I suppose," the witch replied, gazing at Serena's journal. "You may need a new one of those soon, although when you find the time to fill it is beyond me."

"Oh, you know, a few days at Redcliffe, a day at the Dalish camp... sometimes at night I have some time when we're not cleaning the weapons or mending clothing..." Serena shrugged, flipping the pages to one of the maps she'd copied back in the arl's study. "Leliana and I were thinking of going to the Market District too, maybe stay the night in Denerim tonight. We'll need heavier clothes, cloaks and such, for when it gets colder."

"You seem to have really grown into this position, Serena," Morrigan said quietly. "'Tis refreshing, really."

Serena felt herself taken aback by the sudden compliment and grinned. "Thanks... I figured, you know, I couldn't just bumble around forever... Too many things are riding us now. I've been looking over the map a lot, and I think I have a plan figured out, more or less. If this brother can help us find the Ashes, I'd like to head south again... to deal with your mother, and Ostagar." Serena glanced up out of the wagon at her fellow Grey Warden. "We have some unfinished business there."

* * *

><p>Denerim was much larger than Serena remembered. The city's streets looked dirtier, however, as if they were now less loved, and less kept up than they had been in the past. Indeed, the capital could have once been called <em>glorious <em>even, and now it was but a sad reflection of its former majesty. She wondered if Cailan had cared about such things as keeping the streets swept, and with him gone... Serena shook her head. Remembering the former king's exuberance was saddening.

Like Lothering, the capital had taken in its fair share of refugees from the south as well, although Denerim was much better equipped to handle the influx of poor people. As Serena and her companions passed, the refugees were huddled in the streets, many wearing black bands on their arms that matched the flags and banners still hanging from the porches above, in mourning for beloved King Cailan and the army lost at Ostagar.

"So, where do we go to find this Genitivi fellow?" Alistair asked, his eyes lingering on the black banners. Serena gripped his hand, squeezing it gently. She knew he was thinking, like she was, of their late king... his half-brother.

Leliana put a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. "He's a Chantry scholar, isn't he? Surely one of the sisters would know where we could find him."

"If you are going to the Chantry, Sten and I will find lodgings for the evening," Morrigan replied, gazing around the market. Serena pulled some coins from their group purse, pocketing them, and handed the bag to the dark haired witch.

"Just grab a few rooms, we can double up or something. Send Peanut to find me if we're not back in, say, two hours or so?" Serena leaned down and scratched her mabari's head. "You just come get me, okay, boy?" The hound barked happily, following the huge qunari and Morrigan across the market, his little tail wiggling.

Luckily for Serena, two of the Sisters standing outside the Chantry knew Brother Genitivi, and readily pointed it out on Alistair's map where his house was.

"Right across from the Gnawed Noble Tavern, actually," the older of the two women said, tapping a spot on the piece of printed parchment. "Mind you, he might be out. I haven't seen him at mass in... oh, a good while. That man, old as he is... He's still always out on adventures. It's madness, really."

"Oh, don't say that," the younger sister replied. "Brother Genitivi has written so many books for the Chantry based off those _mad_ adventures..."

"Well, I wasn't saying that the _knowledge_ was mad!" The gray haired woman exclaimed. "Just that he's so old-"

"Uh... Thank you so much, both of you," Serena interrupted quickly, backing away from the two bickering Sisters. Serena had a feeling they could bicker about anything for hours if given half the chance. She led her fellows across the market, happy to finally not have to murder anyone, travel halfway across the country, or solve any ancient mysteries to get some information out of someone. Maybe this would be easier than she thought.

Serena knocked on the door to the brother's house, and a young man answered, looking mildly confused.

"Yes? What are you doing here?"

Serena arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm looking for Brother Genitivi. He... this is _his_ house. Who are you?"

"I'm... uh, Weylon." The young man looked nervously at Serena and the others before waving them in quickly. "I am the assistant of the scholar Brother Genitivi."

"I wasn't aware he had an assistant," Serena said, frowning slightly. The _scholar_ Brother Genitivi? Did the man insist on being called a scholar when addressed? She peered around the house, taking in the scattered books across the long table in the middle of the room. "Anyway, do you know where he is? We're looking for him."

"That makes two of us," Weylon replied, shrugging. "I haven't seen Brother Genitivi in weeks. He's sent no word; it's so unlike him..." The assistant sat down at the long table, his eyes nervously flicking from Serena to each of her companions. "I am... afraid something has happened. Genitivi's research into the Urn may have led him into danger."

"Why would searching for the Urn lead him into danger?" Wynne asked. "Is it not really a... a fable then? The Urn exists?"

"I... I d-didn't say that!" Weylon exclaimed. "I just meant... perhaps the Urn has been lost for a reason. I... I pray for Genitivi's safety, but my hope dwindles with each passing day. I tried to send help, but some knights came from Redcliffe looking for him not long ago. I sent them after Genitivi and they too have d-disappeared."

Alistair exchanged quick glances with Serena. "How do you know they disappeared?"

"Well, they... haven't returned, and they sent no word, either," replied the assistant, biting his lip.

"Why would they send _you_ word?" Serena asked, narrowing her eyes at the man. Something was off here. She caught Zevran's eye and surreptitiously signaled for him to move towards the back of the house. She could see the elf nod, his eyes taking in the rest of the objects in the room, looking for something amiss.

"Look, I... I don't know, all right? After what happened to Genitivi, can you blame me for thinking the same thing could happen to the knights?" The assistant shook his head. "Perhaps I am just a pessimist. I hope I am wrong."

"I hope you are wrong, too," Serena replied. She noticed the man wanted to turn so she stepped forward, catching his attention again. "So, where did you send the knights? Where did Genitivi last contact you from?"

"No, no, don't ask me where they went. You'll go after them, and what if ill-luck should befall you, too?" Weylon sighed heavily, twirling his hand in the air as if they were crazy for asking. "This search is a curse, on all of us. Some things are… simply not meant to be found. I know that now."

"Honestly, ill-luck will probably befall me whether you tell me anything or not... it seems to be a running theme in my life, so let's just split the difference here." Serena put a hand on her dagger belt, and smirked as the assistant's eyes followed her hand to the blade. "You tell me what I want to know, and we'll all leave you to your moping pessimism, sound good?"

"All he said before he left was that he would be... staying at an inn near Lake Calenhad, investigating something in that area," Weylon replied, his dark eyes still locked on Serena's dagger.

"Investigating what?" Alistair asked. "We were just near there a few weeks ago."

"I don't know! All I discovered from going through his research was that he was staying at the inn!"

"But you just said he spoke to you and told you that." Serena put a hand down on the table, her eyes staring into the assistants. "Did he tell you that, or did you read it? I want you to be honest."

"Y-yes, of course he told me, but I also went through his things... to see if I could find other... clues... to his whereabouts." The man blushed, ducking his head, as if he knew he was messing up some prearranged report.

"Weylon... are you lying to me?" Serena sang softly into the man's ear. She glanced over at Zevran, and noticed he was jerking his head towards the back room and shaking his head quickly. "What's in your back room?"

"I... what? Wait!" The assistant bolted to his feet, nearly knocking into Serena, and pointed at Zevran. "You! Stay out of there!" He turned back to Serena, pulling a knife from his belt. "I gave you a chance to turn aside and forget you ever heard of the Urn! But _you_ persisted! I... I didn't want to do this!" Weylon grimaced, cutting his own wrist in a long line. "Andraste, forgive me! I do this in Your Name!"

"What? _Whoa!_" Serena grappled with the man as he moved surprisingly fast, cutting her across the pauldron of her armor. With a swift kick, she knocked his knife aside as he started chanting strange words she didn't understand.

"He is a blood mage!" Wynne shouted, swinging her own staff around as a bolt of lightning erupted from the end and shot into the man. He convulsed, falling back against the wall as Alistair pulled his sword and cut him through the chest. With a gurgle of blood, he slumped to the ground dead.

"Sweet Maker, what is wrong with this man?" Serena kneeled down to the man, searching his pockets. "What would a blood mage be doing in a Chantry scholar's house?"

"_Andraste, forgive me, I do this in your name_." Leliana came to stand beside Serena, her brows knitted in concentration. "That's what he shouted before he went... all crazy and stabby." To illustrate her point, she pulled a face and made a few stabbing motions in the air.

Serena looked down at the scraps of paper she'd recovered from the man. "Well, whoever he is, he's_ not_ Weylon. So, who knows if what he told us about Genitivi is even right?"

"I think I found the real Weylon," Zevran called. He peeked in the back room and scowled. "Also one of the missing knights."

"There's a bunch of maps here, and... Oh, look... A book on _dragon cults_." Alistair picked up the book and flipped through it, sighing. "Yes, of course. A dragon cult. Because it's never a puppy cult."

"Would you really want them sacrificing puppies, Alistair?" Leliana asked.

"No, I'd prefer if nobody sacrificed _anything_, but how often do people listen to _me_?"

"Well, if Genitivi isn't here, then he won't be needing his maps..." Serena started rolling up the maps and papers from the table. "We can go through this back at the inn, see if there's any hint as to where he went looking for the Urn."

Zevran came out of the back room, his face screwed up in disgust. "Found a journal, with Genitivi's research... near the bodies. They must have been dead for at least 2 weeks. Although, why that man simply left them there where anyone could find them..." The elf coughed, gagging. "Are we ready to go? I would like to go soak in a hot bath for the rest of my life, please."

"Agreed," Serena replied, casting a look at the fake Weylon. His body was already turning a disgusting gray color. "Should we do something about...?"

"Ah, I think that would just bring more attention to our presence in Denerim than we need, Serena," Alistair said gently. He exchanged looks with Leliana. "There were posters up, all over the city... that bounty is still on our heads."

"The Crown is hunting Grey Wardens," Wynne added, her eyebrows knit. "At least they do not have your likenesses. Yet."

"Well, that's comforting," Serena said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "I suppose you're right, though..." Serena sighed. "So much for shoe shopping."

"No, no, that is where I draw the line," Leliana replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "We did _not_ come all this way to not get new shoes!"

* * *

><p>Despite the bounty on their heads, they finished their shopping in the Market District without any major incidents. Leliana got her shoe fix satisfied, with Serena purchasing some new insoles for her boots, for the winter. Alistair and Zevran had politely excused themselves early on in Madam Lorendin's to stare longingly at the wares of a nearby weapons merchant.<p>

Wynne had then taken them inside an enormous magic store called the Wonders of Thedas, which had a Tranquil proprietor, to Serena's surprise. She hadn't been aware the Tranquil possessed the capabilities to manage a store on their own, but perhaps their lack of emotions actually made them better businessmen.

Wynne had restocked on some potion ingredients for herself and Morrigan while Serena picked up an interesting looking book on the Qunari philosophy called _Following the Qun_. Alistair had his own package, she noticed, and when prodded, showed her it was a miniature golem doll.

"The arl bought me one, when I was young, really young, and… I just thought..." Alistair blushed, putting the doll away in his pack. "I didn't know if they would have one, but they did, and… I'm... babbling."

"You're cute when you babble," Serena said, intertwining her fingers with his briefly. "So, I was wondering... are you busy tonight? I thought maybe we could... go out or something. I know there's the bounty, but if we aren't in armor or anything then..." Serena shrugged. "Besides, it's been ages since I've been in Denerim and-"

"Ah, um..." Alistair glanced around nervously. "I thought maybe we'd just stay in tonight? Look over Genitivi's research and all that. Plus, we've been on the road and everything... It might be good to... just... relax."

"Oh, yeah... of course. I should of..." Serena ducked her head, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She hadn't thought she'd be spending her birthday going over old maps. She sighed. Maybe Alistair had forgotten? Ah, well. At least she'd gone shopping... "Yes, we should definitely look into his papers and… whatever."

As Serena wandered away from him looking nothing short of dejected, Alistair couldn't help but feel his chest tighten. He saw Leliana shoot him an exasperated look and walk over to him as he shrugged helplessly, not knowing what to do.

"You are such a... _male_... sometimes," the red head hissed, shoving one of bags from the shoe store into his flustered hands. "Why are you telling her off? It's her _birthday_."

"I know it's her bloody birthday! I didn't want her to-" Alistair dropped her voice. "She wanted to go out. _Tonight_. I was afraid I'd... you know, botch it all up."

"If you didn't already," Leliana replied, rolling her eyes at him. "Did you see her face? Anyway, those should be right." Leliana nodded to the bag Alistair now held. "Zevran and I will go on ahead of you."

"Right, right. I..." He caught Leliana's eyes, smiling crookedly. "Thank you, both of you, for helping me with this."

The bard grinned, waving him away. "No thank you necessary. I am a sucker for this type of thing." She glanced around the magic store, searching for Serena's brunette head, most likely. "Oh, good, Zevran is distracting her. Well, let's get going."

Beside her, Alistair sighed, praying silently he hadn't already ruined the evening before it even began.


	46. Chapter 46

**Author's Note:** Many thanks to everyone reviewing and following along. You all make my day! I'm releasing this chapter a little early, since it's basically a continuation of chapter 45. And because so many of you are wondering about the party! This chapter finishes up Denerim (for now.) Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 46<span> - _Head Over Heels_

The hot bath was helping to alleviate some of Serena's tension. She hadn't realized how much she had wanted to do something, anything really, to celebrate her birthday until here it was upon her. She supposed she shouldn't complain. It could be worse. She could be injured, or dead, or... well, it didn't really get much worse than dead, did it? Instead she was taking her first warm bath since Redcliffe, complete with delicious smelling soaps. Things could definitely be worse.

She sighed wistfully as she sunk lower into the warm water. If she'd been back at Highever, the harvestmere festival dance would have been in full swing. Musicians of all kinds would play long into the night... well, there was no use dwelling on that now. Alistair was absolutely right. She should be focusing on collecting information about the Urn of Sacred Ashes, anyway.

Rinsing her hair one last time, Serena stepped out of the bath, drying off quickly. She pulled on fresh underclothes and popped her head outside the door. Instead of Alistair's tall body lounging on the bed reading, as she had left him, she saw a dress, with a note. A pair of heels sat on the floor at the edge of the bed.

Confused, Serena picked up the note and flipped it over, immediately recognizing Alistair's neat little scrawl.

_Serena-  
><em>_I have a surprise for you. Meet me downstairs.  
><em>_Love, Alistair_

_P.S. I hope the shoes fit. Leliana helped me pick them out.  
><em>

Serena smiled to herself as she picked up the dress, the silk feeling cool against her fingers. So_ this_ was why Alistair had been so abrupt with her about evening plans. He'd already had something planned for her. She pulled the dark blue dress over her head, surprised at how well it fit. She giggled as she realized he probably knew her body pretty well by now. He certainly _seen_ enough of it.

Glancing in the mirror, she pushed out the folds of the dress, and shook out her hair. It was nearly dry, and with some quick twisting, she braided it into a long complicated knot her mother had taught her. Last came the shoes, a beautiful pair of gray silk heels with blue embroidery, and then she was done.

Rushing down the stairs of the inn as quickly as her heels would allow, she paused at the bottom of the staircase. Alistair was there, leaning casually against the wall, waiting for her. He grinned, the smile lighting up his entire face, as he took her in, dress and all.

His own outfit was marvelous. A gray and blue doublet, with a silk collar and bright silver buttons... He looked every part the lost prince. The colors suited his tan skin and dark blonde hair too, and the collar was high enough to cover his still-healing scars from the werewolf attack earlier in the week. Their eyes locked and Serena felt her cheeks redden slightly as she made her way to him, curtsying politely.

"I... thought you'd… forgotten," Serena said quietly.

"Never," Alistair replied, kissing her forehead lightly. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me, dear lady, for the next thirty or so years." Alistair grinned again, offering his arm. "Shall we then? The night is young, and we've much to do."

* * *

><p>The dance hall was enormous, much bigger than either of the two Serena had been to back in Highever. Leliana and Zevran were already there when they arrived; both dressed in formal attire. Leliana had a beautiful yellow gown on that made her short red hair look like a flame atop a pale candle as the elven assassin spun her around on the dance floor. They both appeared to be having a grand time, Leliana laughing as they danced between other couples, their fingers intertwined.<p>

"I can't believe you planned this," Serena whispered, clutching Alistair's hand tightly.

Alistair nodded, turning her deftly in a small circle. "I do owe you dance, don't I?"

The music picked up and Serena allowed herself to be led out onto the dance floor by Alistair, the rhythm of the deep stand-up bass nearby reawakening her long dormant dance skills. Alistair raised their clasped hands as he placed his other hand at Serena's waist, grinning at her.

"Let's see how much of this I remember..." Alistair whispered in her ear as they began to turn in time to the music. Serena gently placed her hand on his shoulder, unable to keep her own grin off her face.

"If I didn't love you before this..." Serena rested her head on his shoulder as they revolved around the floor. "I don't know how I'd be able to resist you now."

"My dear, you couldn't resist me when I was _ten_," Alistair said with a laugh. "How ever would you manage now I'm all handsome and manly?"

"And tall," Serena added, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Don't forget tall."

The music was infectious, with the babble of laughing and singing blending into a loud symphony of happiness that broke through the gloom outside the hall. Alistair spun and dipped Serena around the dance floor, his hands pressing lightly as they glided about. Alistair could feel his chest expand as Serena gazed up at him, her face shining with pure joy, as he realized that he was the one making her smile so.

They must have danced for the better part of an hour before Zevran appeared at their side, an arm casually wrapped around Leliana's waist. Serena glanced down at his hand, raising an eyebrow, but the elf simply grinned at her in response.

"Wynne and Morrigan are here," the elf said, jerking a thumb at a nearby table. Serena followed his gaze to see Sten make his way to the table and grab a seat next to the dark haired witch. "Ah, and the giant joins us, too. A full house, as it were."

When they reached the table, Wynne was already cutting an unwrapped cake into pieces. Morrigan pushed a piece of the frosted confection over to Serena with a rare smile as she plunked down on the other side of the huge qunari, her face feeling flush from all the dancing. "I'm surprised you came at all, Sten."

"I'm here for the cake," Sten replied. "The Qunari do not celebrate birthdays, as you call them, but as it stands, I hope this one is good for you."

"Thanks... I think." Serena smiled, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. How typically Sten. "You know, I picked up a book today at the magic store about the Qun."

"Let me know when you have read it," the huge man said, the fork in his hand looking ridiculously tiny in comparison. "Then perhaps we will actually have an engaging conversation for once."

"Oh yes, I do so look forward to these talks of ours," Serena said with a smirk.

Shaking her head, she turned back to her cake, content with just listening to her companions talk with one another, enjoying the cacophony of their voices. This felt right, like a family, and while they would never replace the one she had lost at Highever… nobody could ever replace Oren and her parents... these people were closer to her, in a lot of ways. They understood her better, they fought beside her, and they protected her.

"Happy 19th birthday, Serena," Alistair said, pulling Serena out of her reverie with a sideways hug.

Across the table, Zevran raised a glass. "And to many more, of course. Preferably with less clothing."

* * *

><p>Deciding at breakfast to split up to take care of their various errands, Serena wondered at her own infinite judgment of dancing all night with Alistair, just to end up clomping around Denerim the next morning. They passed the various stalls in the Market District as merchants quickly sold and traded goods around them in a frenzy of activity.<p>

"I don't envy you, you know," Alistair said, watching her tread lightly as they crossed the market stalls. "Those heels..."

"Mind you, they were heels _you_ picked," Serena replied. She slipped her hand into his, tugging him to a stop. "If I'm going to be fatigued, I can't imagine a better way of going about it. Well, maybe I can..." She gave him a cheeky grin before pushing up on her toes to kiss him lightly on the cheek. "Thank you... for giving me such good memories for my birthday. Oh, and cake."

"Of course! We couldn't forget cake." Alistair grinned, leaning his forehead against hers. "It was my pleasure. I... I haven't had that much fun in… Well, I'm not sure I've ever had that much fun, come to think of it. It felt so normal, so right, to just... be with you, dancing and laughing. For one night, there wasn't a Blight, or an archdemon, or... anything. Just you."

"I know, it was... I know exactly what you mean." Serena wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight. "Have I told you today that you're wonderful?"

"You might have mumbled it in your sleep, actually..." Alistair grinned and lifted her up, swinging her happily in a circle. "I just... I can't even tell you how happy you make me. I haven't felt this good in a long, long time." Serena kissed him on the lips, her blood buzzing happily. They could have been any couple in the Market District just then. Not Grey Wardens, not fighting the Blight, just two people carefree and in love. It felt wonderful.

"You know, I..." Alistair paused, his eyes drifting up. "I... um, sorry, I think that's my... my sister's house."

"What?" Serena turned to where he was staring and looked up at him. "_Oh_. Well, should we...?"

"Yes. I mean, let me check the address first, I don't want to end up on some stranger's doorstep..." He fumbled in his pockets, pulling out a scrap of paper. His eyes flipping from the paper to the small house, he smiled crookedly at Serena. "Yes. This_ is_ the right address. She... she could be inside. Could we... go and see?"

"Absolutely." Serena slipped her hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly. "Are you... ready?"

Alistair gulped, his eyes wholly focused on the door. "Do I seem a little nervous?"

"Ah, a little." Serena held up a hand, her thumb and finger close together. "Tiny bit. Miniscule, really. Nothing noticeable... at all." She placed her hand on his upper arm, steading him. "Maybe you ought to stop shaking, though. Might give off the wrong impression."

"Will she even know who I am? Does she even know I exist? My sister." Alistair shook his head in disbelief. "That sounds very strange... 'sister'... Sissssterrr." He looked down at his boots, and Serena could see he was smiling awkwardly. "Now I'm babbling. Maybe we should go. Let's go. Let's just... go."

"Alright." Serena tugged him over to the door and knocked quickly as he tried to pull away. "Stop it. Stand up straight. You've already met her... sort of."

"Come in!" came an answering shout from behind the door.

"That was a _demon_, Serena," Alistair hissed, still looking like he wanted to bolt.

"She's _family_, there's really not much of a difference, believe me," Serena replied, turning the knob. "Come_ on_."

They walked into the house, and Serena could see Alistair straighten his shoulders, as if preparing himself for something unpleasant.

"Err... hello?"

A woman with dark coppery hair came around from the back of the room, some towels on one arm. "Eh? You have linens to wash? I charge three bits on the bundle, you won't find better." She tossed the towels down on a chair and placed a hand on her hip. "And don't trust what that Natalia woman tells you either, she's foreign and she'll rob you blind."

Serena exchanged glances with Alistair, pushing him gently forward with her shoulder. "I'm... not here to have any wash done," he said quickly. "My name is Alistair. I'm... well, this may sound sort of strange, but are you Goldanna?"

The woman narrowed her eyes at them, suspicion clearly reading on her face. "Who's asking?"

"I... I suppose I'm your brother," Alistair said uncertainly. His voice cracked a little, and Serena bit her lip, watching the copper-haired woman keenly.

"My _what_? I'm... I am Goldanna, yes... how do you know my name?" The woman crossed her arms defensively. "What kind of tomfoolery are you folk up to?"

"Are you sure we got the address right, Alistair?" Serena whispered quietly.

"Yes, I... I think so. I'm sure of it, in fact." He turned back to his sister. "Look, our mother... she worked as a servant in Redcliffe Castle a long time ago, before she died. Do you know about that? She-"

"_You!_ I _knew_ it! They told me you was dead!" Goldanna pointed an accusing finger at Alistair, her eyes narrowed angrily at them both. "They told me the babe was dead along with mother, but I _knew_ they was lying!"

"They told you I was dead? Who? Who told you that?"

"Them's at the castle!" Goldanna shouted. "I told them the babe was the king's, and they said he was _dead_. Gave me a coin to shut my mouth and sent me on my way! I _knew_ it!"

Alistair stepped back, letting go of Serena's hand. "I'm sorry, I... didn't know that. The babe didn't die. I'm him; I'm... your brother."

The woman scoffed, her dark eyes sizing them both up. "For all the good it does _me__!_ You killed Mother, you did, and I've had to scrape by all this time? That coin didn't last long, and when I went back, they ran me off!"

Serena couldn't help but notice how little Alistair and this woman looked alike. Her coloring was much darker all around, and Serena found herself wondering if perhaps the Theirin blood just... showed more. Goldanna's attitude certainly did nothing to improve the resemblance; she had not an ounce of Alistair's charm, and Serena felt her hand itching to pull Alistair away from her vehemence.

"That's hardly Alistair's fault, miss," Serena said softly, coming to stand firmly beside Alistair. "He... he was just a baby. You can't _possibly_-"

Goldanna turned her furious eyes on Serena, sneering openly at them both now. "And who in the Maker's name are _you_? Some tart? Following after his riches, I expect?"

"_Excuse me_?" Serena felt her jaw drop, completely taken aback by the woman's words. Some tart after his riches? Was this some joke? Who did this woman think she was? She shook her head, silently praying to the Maker for patience with this terrible woman.

"Hey! Don't speak to her that way!" Alistair looked from Serena to Goldanna, his face utterly mortified. "She's my... my... dear friend, and a Grey Warden! Just like me!"

"Oooh," Goldanna taunted cruelly. "I see now. A prince _and_ a Grey Warden, too. Well, who am _I_ to think poorly of someone so high and mighty compared to me?" She picked up one of the towels and threw it roughly at Alistair's face.

"I don't know you, boy! Your royal father forced himself on my mother and took her away from me, and what do I got to show for it? Nothing!" The woman gathered up the other towels, and chucked another one angrily at Alistair. "They tricked me good! I should have told everyone! I got five mouths to feed, and unless you can help with that, I got less than no use for you."

"I... I'm sorry, I..." Alistair spluttered hopelessly, the towels still in his hands. "I don't know what to say... I mean… I want to help..."

"You want to help?" Goldanna spat. "You go to whatever high-and-mighty folks you run with, and you tell them you've got nephews and nieces that aren't living as they've a right to! You do _that__!_"

Alistair looked as if he wanted to say something else but Serena gripped his hand tightly. Moving slightly in front of him she shot him a look, imploring him with her eyes to shut up. "You know, it was _really_ lovely meeting you! You really are a peach, but we just have lots to be getting on with today. We have to go... gotta end that pesky Blight and all... So, here you go, and…" Serena fumbled in her pocket and shoved a handful of random coins at the woman.

"Bye. Come on, Alistair." Serena tugged at his arm, pulling him out the door quickly. Goldanna slammed the door shut behind them with a loud bang and Serena sighed, shaking her head. She could feel her pulse racing, her heart thumping in her chest. What an absolutely _horrible_ woman...

"Well that was... not what I expected. To put it lightly." Alistair looked miserably at Serena, his eyes dark with regret. "_This_ is the family I've been wondering about all my life? That... gold-digging _harridan_? I... can't believe it."

He ran a hand through his blonde hair, looking utterly wretched. "I guess I was expecting her to... accept me with question. Isn't that what family is supposed to do? I... I feel like a... complete idiot."

"I don't know what to tell you, Alistair. Everyone... everyone is out for themselves, it feels like. After everything we've seen... The Circle, the Dalish... Everyone is only interested in what you can do for them." Serena sighed, her eyes rolling to the sky in frustration. "Everyone uses everybody else, and they only care about themselves. You should learn that."

"Yes, I... suppose you're right. I should." Alistair's voice was low as he ran a hand through his hair again and Serena immediately felt awful for being so short with him. The stress of the moment was just... Alistair shook his head, turning away from her. "Let's just... let's just go. I... don't want to talk about this any more."

They walked along in silence for a while, neither knowing what to say. Serena had never thought his sister would... be so cruel. Granted, whoever had tossed her out at Redcliffe had _really_ deserved her ire, but to blame Alistair for so much, after 20 years, when she didn't even _know_ him... Serena just hoped the woman didn't turn them in to the city guard as Grey Wardens. With five mouths to feed, that bounty would probably start to look _real_ good soon enough, brother or not.

She shook her head, pulling out her errand list and a small map, hoping the undertaking would take her mind off dwelling on Alistair's shrew of a sister.

She headed into Salma's Garb For All Occasions. The shopkeeper, a kindly old lady, smiled at Serena and handed her two neat bundles of thick cloaks and heavy gloves for everyone, tied up tightly with bits of string. Dividing them up into her and Alistair's packs, Serena pulled out her list of errands again, ticking her task off.

Having refused to dance the night before despite Zevran's rather persistent asking, Wynne had instead been studying Genitivi's journal at the dance hall. She told Serena if they truly intended to go after the scholar, they would need to head to a town called Haven, that perched far up in the Frostback Mountains to the west. Realizing they would nearly freeze if they tried to brave the cold in their current attire, Leliana had dropped off sizes at Salma's shop in the morning before breakfast.

Now with her one errand done for the day, Serena found herself standing in the Market District, feeling awkward. Alistair glanced at her sideways before returning his gaze to his boots, his hands wringing themselves anxiously.

"Do you want to get a drink or something?" Serena asked quietly. "It's... it's been a rough day so far, and the sun is very bright and… I don't know." She looked up at Alistair, her mouth quirking into a tiny smile. "...My feet hurt?"

Alistair shrugged, an answering smile threatening to crack his sullen countenance. "Yeah, let's go grab a pint." He put his arm around her, leading them to the nearby tavern, and Serena sighed, glad to have some semblance of normalcy back.

The pub was noisy, considering the day had barely ticked into the afternoon. A large group of burly men were near the back, drinking and shouting, their boots up on the tables, a harassed looking waitress serving them diligently. Serena frowned at them, heading for the bar, as Alistair followed silently behind her.

She ordered two pints of ale from the mustached barman and pulled herself up onto one of the stools, her mood steadily improving from their earlier encounter with Goldanna. As the bartender pushed the pints towards her, Serena was reminded of the last time they'd tried to have a pint back in Lothering.

She looked back at the group of men again, deciding the chances of them being recognized were fairly low. The men seemed fully occupied pestering the few locals in the bar and the poor bar maidens.

"You know, I've been thinking... Back when we left Goldanna's, you told me I needed to look out for myself more than I do." Alistair glanced at Serena sideways, his pint practically untouched. "I'm beginning to think you were right."

"I need to stop letting everyone else make my decisions for me. I need to take a stand and… think about _myself_ for a change, or I'm never going to be happy."

Serena pushed against him playfully, a grin on her face. "Good! You're a strong man, Alistair. Inside and out. I think it's about time more people saw that than just me. I think it's time you saw that in yourself."

"Then from this point on, I'll be looking out for myself more. I... should have done this a long time ago." Alistair smiled crookedly at her, raising his glass in salute. "I just wanted to... thank you. Being with you is the one bright spot out of everything that's happened."

"You're always saying such sweet things to me, it's a wonder my cheeks aren't permanently red by now." Serena flapped a hand at her face as she blushed crimson. "I'm sorry, by the way, about... what happened back there. I know you were looking forward to actually meeting her... I... I wish it had gone better."

"Ah, it's..." Alistair sighed, taking a swig of his ale. "It is what it is. I never thought a _demon_ would be nicer than my actual sister, though." He shrugged sheepishly, and smiled at Serena. "I'm glad you were there with me... I'm not sure I would have been able to handle that on my own."

"I'm not sure how much help I was... that tart comment really got under my skin... More than it should have. It's odd, though, how people react differently to the same information and sequence of events." Serena tapped the bar, thinking hard. "Some people would have... bonded with you, over the loss of your... of your mother. It's downright disturbing to think that woman has spent twenty years blaming her _entire life_ on someone she didn't even know was _alive_. What a terrible existence."

"Well, I can't say I didn't want it to go differently, but perhaps it's for the best. What if... what if we'd got on really well and I just... I ended up... not making it?"

Serena looked at him sharply, her blue eyes automatically going to his shoulder. "You're still thinking about it. The... the wolf. The bite."

"And the tower. And the Fade. We've almost died _a lot_ in the past few weeks, Serena," Alistair said softly.

"But the good news is we're always there to bring each other back," Serena whispered, slipping her hand into his. "I've searched the very depths of the Fade for you, my prince, and I'd _gladly_ do it again." Alistair leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his honey eyes warm and genial.

"So, I've been wondering something... I'd like to know your thoughts about some of our... traveling companions," Alistair said, his lips quirking up. "Since we're alone right now and all. Do you mind if I ask?"

Serena grinned at him. "Oh ho, time for juicy gossip then?"

"I've got this nefarious plan to go around to each of them and secretly tell them all the nasty things you said. That way, they'll mutiny and I shall become the group leader!"

"You really want to lead this band of misfits?" Serena asked, smirking. "Good bloody luck."

"Oh, no. Lead? Me? No, no, no. No leading for Alistair. Bad things happen when I lead. We get lost... people die... and then the next thing you know, I'm stranded somewhere without any pants."

"Sounds tempting," Serena purred. "I could think of a few places I'd like to see you stranded without any pants."

Alistair laughed, his cheeks turning a slight bit pinker. "Seriously, though. I'm curious. I've had enough time to form my own opinions, and I just want to see if yours are... any different."

Serena took a gulp of her ale, feeling the alcohol warm her up as it flowed to her belly. "Alright, I'm game. Go ahead."

"So, Sten," Alistair began. "The way he looks at me, with those eyes... creepy, right? And he's so quiet for someone so... _big_."

"Sten is... How do I describe Sten?" Serena sighed. "Well, he's a fantastic warrior, when he's not sighing loudly or questioning my motives for... just about everything. I've started reading that book, about that... philosophy of theirs, the Qunari, and I think I understand him a bit better, anyway." Serena giggled. "I do wish he'd blink a bit more when he's talking, though."

"Yes, the more I talk to him, the more it seems like his philosophy isn't as vile as the Chantry describes it..." Alistair shrugged, taking another swallow of ale. "And yet he killed all those people. With his bare hands. Over a sword! He doesn't even deny it! Doesn't that bother you?"

"A bit. He told me he... overreacted. Bit of a big overreaction, but..." Serena turned to Alistair. "You know he calls his sword Asala? It's the qunari term for a soul. I heard him... talking to my dog about it, actually. Strange fellow, that Sten."

"What about Leliana?" Alistair asked. "Do you really believe in her vision? I've heard her talk about it a few times. It's a bit... well... out there. But then, I didn't even know non-Grey Wardens could have dreams about the Blight like that... so maybe..."

"Yeah, I... don't know. I find it a remarkable coincidence, that we were looking to recruit an army, in _Lothering_ of all places..."

"And there was no way she could have known we needed help so desperately, yet there she was."

"Exactly!" Serena exclaimed. "Sometimes I think... Even if the Maker _has_ left us, like the Chantry says, I can't help but think He throws us a bone, every so often. I do wish she'd open up a bit more, though. Whenever I talk to her, I always think she's holding back something. Like she's embarrassed or... ashamed? I don't know."

"If you look at her, when she doesn't see you, she just looks so... so _sad_," Alistair said quietly. "I almost feel guilty taking her away from her life in Lothering and all."

"I think, if anything, we're helping her get back to her real life," Serena replied. "You don't learn to shoot, or swing a sword like she does by praying in the Chantry... Ah, well. Who's next?"

"Morrigan." Alistair practically spit the name out. "Tell me you don't trust her! Think about it... maybe Flemeth sent her with us for some... other reason than she said."

"Possibly. Or she's just afraid of the Blight." Serena glanced around; making sure nobody was listening in on them. The barmen had moved away, cleaning a large stack of mugs. "I hadn't had the chance to talk to you about this, but... back at Redcliffe, Morrigan told me... well, ah, how do I put this? Morrigan found out how Flemeth lives, well, basically forever."

Alistair leaned in, his eyes narrowed in curiosity. "Really? What is it? Some spell?"

"Not... exactly. She uh, _possesses_... her daughters. Morrigan is the most recent in… a very long line of daughters for Flemeth. I've never seen her frightened, but I swear, Alistair, when Morrigan told me, there was fear in her eyes. _Real_ fear. And… she... well, she asked me to kill her. Kill Flemeth, for her."

"And you want to _do_ it? Are you-" Alistair lowered his voice. "Are you crazy, Serena?"

"No, I mean... I'm... I don't know. I _told_ her I would do it, but Flemeth saved our _lives_, you know? We'd be dead, _very dead_, atop that tower right now if not for her." Serena sighed. "I was hoping maybe we could just... talk her out of possessing Morrigan. Or something. Maybe."

"Right. _Wow_." Alistair ran a hand through his blonde hair. "I love you, but that's crazy. You are saying _crazy things_ right now."

"I know," Serena said miserably. "She wants me to bring her back her spellbook, too, to prove I did it."

Alistair snorted. "Wow. I... I didn't think I could dislike her more than I do, but... but here we are." Alistair drained his ale and pushed back from the bar. "You know, I think my curiosity is sated for now. Possibly for the rest of my life." He shook his head. "Bloody swamp witch... reminds me of Goldanna..."

"I told her we had business, in... in Ostagar, which you know, we should go back there, sometime. Maybe see if we can find... some of the others." Serena finished her pint and dropped off the stool, falling into step beside Alistair. "We could just make a quick detour into the Wilds, avoiding all the darkspawn, of course, and... politely ask Flemeth for her grimoire and to please not possess our friend."

"_Your_ friend," Alistair corrected vehemently. "She is most definitely _your_ friend, here. I want to make that very clear. _I _think she's dangerous, and evil... and... and _mean_."

"But you'll go with me, right?"

"Maybe. I haven't decided."

"Haven't _decided_?" Serena's voice was incredulous. "Well... What if I bribe you?" Serena slipped her hand in his, her fingers rubbing against his skin in small circles. "I could... wash your clothes for a week?"

Alistair arched an eyebrow at her. "Ha, you'll have to do better than that. This is _Morrigan_ we're talking about here. You are asking me to do a _favor_ for Morrigan."

"I could mend all your shirts? You hate doing that..." They crossed the Market District and headed into the inn they were staying at, Serena following Alistair up the staircase and into their room. "Or I could... do all your food prep, too?"

"You're getting warmer, but still, I don't think I could be troubled, honestly." Alistair shrugged, sitting down on the bed, pulling his boots off. "There's darkspawn down in the Wilds... Maker, it's probably _overrun_ by now, come to think of it. Not to mention her mother's a bloody apostate that's lived for _centuries_. A few sewn shirts and bird feathers plucked isn't going to help that."

"I _am_ the leader, you know." Serena pushed him back onto the mattress, her arms propping her up on top of him. "I could just _order_ you to go with me. Then you have to obey."

"Why, I'm surprised, Serena. I never thought you, of all people, would abuse your power so." Alistair grinned up at her, his fingers flipping rapidly at the straps holding Serena's armor on. "I really thought you were... above this."

"I'm above _you_, currently," Serena teased, pulling at the buckles holding his breastplate on and tossing it onto the floor. "I rather think I have the advantage here."

"Oh, that's just silly," Alistair said, grabbing her waist. With a quick push, he flipped her over on the bed. "You come up to my nose, my lady. I would be willing to bet I have at least a hundred pounds on you. These are facts. I _always_..." Alistair leaned close, his breath on Serena's ear. "...have the advantage."

"So…" Serena paused, trying to keep complete control of herself. She didn't want to give him anything to work with. "Mending your clothes won't do it. Plucking feathers won't do it. What will it take to get you to come with me?" Serena pulled his shirt out of his breeches, running her hands up his chest, his skin feeling warm and wonderful underneath her fingers.

"I wonder, am I still... getting warmer?" Serena whispered, her mouth just millimeters from his.

"You're hot." Alistair ran his hands into Serena's hair, kissing her lips, their legs a tangle together. "Definitely hot."


	47. Chapter 47

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone following and reviewing! This was a fun chapter to write, despite the overall melancholy that is The Return to Ostagar. I took a little (maybe a lottle?) bit of liberties here and there, because the fact that a dying man prompts you to go there is, well, _stupid_. The Warden and Alistair and Wynne have MORE than enough reason to go back on their own. Not to mention it's Bann Loren's lands you go to, and that has this weird continuity problem with the Noble origin, anyway. (If his loyalities are so suspect, why is Eleanor Cousland besties with his wife Lady Landra, huh? Huh? Riddle me _this_, Bioware!) Anyway, hope you all enjoy. The title of this chapter is an AFI song, off the most excellent album "The Art Of Drowning."

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><p><span>Chapter 47<span> - _The Despair Factor_

Ostagar was looming beyond, Serena could feel it. Their party had been on the road for days, traveling steadily southwest, back towards the mountains, towards Redcliffe, towards the Wilds. Lothering was but a burnt out shell of it's former miserably over-crowded self. Nothing stood, save the Chantry and a few houses near it. The town was all but abandoned, but Leliana had insisted they stop and see if anyone survived.

To Serena's immense relief, it appeared as if many of the people and refugees had heeded her warning and fled the tiny town before the darkspawn came and raided it. They found only a few bodies, but that was enough, as they had been desecrated beyond anything Serena had ever seen. Most appeared eaten, limbs torn asunder, large bites and claw marks crisscrossing the blackened skin. It steeled her resolve to see them, to know that this could not... _would not_ happen to the rest of Ferelden.

Serena's senses were on edge, the taint tingling in her blood as she passed buildings burned to the ground or simply demolished by the great fists of an ogre. Her new abilities pushed her even further down, as she could barely sense any normal animals left in the area. Nearly everything held the decay of the Blight within it near Lothering, and she found herself pressing out desperately, searching for something, _anything_, not corrupted by the darkspawn.

With a great caw, a crow flew down from the sky, landing on Serena's outstretched arm. It's oily black feathers were perfect, although the bird appeared thin from lack of food. Serena rummaged in her pack and pulled out a bit of dried fish, feeding it to the hungry crow.

"I know, it is terrible. But I am glad that _you_ made it, my friend," Serena cooed to the crow, oblivious to the quizzical look Wynne shot her. "If you can manage it, fly further north, it's safer there. You may find friends." She gave the crow a bit more fish before releasing it again into the air.

"So, do you understand what they are saying?" the older mage asked, watching the crow fly away. "I am curious what it is you sense when you... speak to them."

"It used to be images, just... flashes of memories or feelings," Serena replied. "Now... it's much clearer. It's not like conversing with you, animals don't think in the same linear patterns we do. It's more feeling based, I suppose. Like speaking to a small child." Serena paused to examine the corruption that had started growing up the side of the Chantry, and she pulled her dagger, scratching it off diligently.

Wynne had assumed that was all Serena had to say about it until she suddenly turned back, speaking quietly. "Morrigan... when she's transformed... she thinks the same. Don't tell her I said this, but... It's almost like reading her mind." Serena sheathed her dagger again. "It's probably the only time anyone knows what she's thinking."

"Except every time she opens that mouth," Wynne replied, casting a long look at the witch. Serena followed her glance and laughed. Morrigan sat on the edge of the wagon, and from the look on both their faces, she was having another row with Alistair.

"He _hates_ her," Serena said, grinning. "He says she dangerous and evil. Thinks I shouldn't be so nice to her."

"Why _are_ you nice to her? She certainly doesn't deserve it."

Serena shrugged. "Morrigan can be nice when she wants to, which isn't too terribly often, I'll admit... but I think, deep down, she's just... lonely... and lashes out at people who she sees as weak. She... doesn't understand that not everyone has to be a silver-tongued jackal to have an inner strength about them. Alistair, for example... you have to get to know him a little to see how protective he can be, otherwise he just comes off as a sarcastic jokester."

Wynne nodded, putting a hand out to burn the corruption Serena had cut off the Chantry's wall. "I think I see more and more why she and Alistair deferred to you, when you first began this journey."

"Oh, boy, and was that a fun two days, let me tell you. Alistair was still reeling from Ostagar, and Morrigan... well, you know how she can be. No sympathy for anyone, ever. I thought they were going to murder each other before we got here." Serena gazed up at the statue of Andraste that stood outside the Chantry's huge double doors. "What do you think we'll find down there? In Ostagar?"

Wynne put a gentle hand on Serena's shoulder, squeezing it. "Closure, I hope."

* * *

><p>The Imperial Highway leading into Ostagar had definitely seen better days. The darkspawn corruption had traveled up from the Wilds, or so it seemed, for all the stones were a dirty black, as if a great fire had tried to ravage the road itself.<p>

Since Lothering, they had run into roaming bands of darkspawn every few hours. Because of the frequency of the attacks, Alistair and Serena had decided to split up, Serena leading the front, and Alistair bringing up the rear, so they wouldn't be overwhelmed without sufficient warning.

Being away from Serena was taking it's toll in this ravaged land, however. Alistair found himself pushing out with his Grey Warden senses every few minutes, searching for her unique signature among all the decay. Always pulsating just above the disgusting blackness, Serena was like a warm glowing beckon of pure energy.

The wreckage of Ostagar loomed all around them now. Alistair could see Bodahn look around anxiously as they moved further in, the wet snow on the ground hampering the movement of the wagon's wheels. At the front, Serena signaled for the wagon to come to a stop in the ruins of the old infirmary.

"Alright, I think it would be best if we went ahead on foot from here. Morrigan, Peanut, Leliana and Sten, I want you four staying here, with Bodahn and Sandal. Protect the wagon and our supplies. Leliana, I want you to take these-" Serena pulled two pins from her hair and pressed them into the hand of the red-haired bard. "If you see any chests, anything that looks like it might contain documents, open it. _Especially_ if it has a wyvern on it."

Serena pointed into the valley just beyond the infirmary. "The King's camp was just there. The rest of us will be going to the tower."

"Will you be... do you think you will be safe enough?" Leliana asked. Serena saw her blue eyes flick to the elven assassin briefly before coming back to her. "Perhaps we should stay together. This place makes me... very ill at ease."

Serena put a hand on her shoulder. "I know. Peanut will be able to sense the darkspawn, but I don't think they will come to you. The only reason they attacked our group at all was because Alistair and I... they can sense us." Serena dropped her voice. "Look for those documents, Leliana. If you... if you find anything with the griffon on it, too..."

"I know. I will find whatever this ruin has left. You have my word, Serena." The bard nodded again, then turned back to the others, waving an arm. "Maker keep you safe, all of you!"

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><p>Walking through the old camp was like walking through a graveyard for Alistair. Smashed tents littered what had formally been the Grey Warden camp, as if an ogre had stomped through the place. Perhaps an ogre had done just that, he thought miserably, remembering the enormous beast they had fought in the Tower of Ishal.<p>

Glancing about, Alistair found himself drawn to a cluster of crushed tents and crates, his mind telling him this had been where Duncan had set down. He barely noticed when Serena kneeled down next to him, their hands rooting through the refuse for anything at all and nothing in particular.

Then there it was. A mangled metal chest, the Grey Warden griffon still emblazoned on the lock. He watched anxiously as Serena pulled another pin from her hair and went to work on the lock, frowning as it refused to open.

"Damn. I need... something long, a stick, maybe. Thin." She searched around her feet, pulling a small blackened branch from the ground and ripped the tip from it, shoving it into the lock. After a few seconds, they both heard a click and Serena pushed the chest open, looking inside.

A large packet of documents, tied together with bits of twine were inside, along with an empty Grey Warden pendent and a leather book. Serena pulled out the documents and the small bound journal, exchanging a glance with Alistair.

"This, too," he said quietly, picking up the empty pendent. "We'll have to rebuild, someday." He saw Serena wipe at her eyes as she stood, putting the papers and things into her pack.

"There's no bodies," she murmured. "I've seen some on the way here, but... none of them were Wardens. I... I don't think we'll find him, Alistair. I think they took them."

"Why? Why would they... Maker, I don't even _want_ to know, I can't..." Alistair kicked at a pile of sacks angrily, unable to contain his frustration. "It's all so... _wrong_. They're filthy and..." Alistair paused, leaning down again. "I... it's the..." He picked up a huge silver chalice and frowned, rubbing his gloved hands over the surface, trying to wipe away the dirt encrusted on it.

"The Joining," Serena said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You should keep that. You... know all the words and everything. Duncan would want you to take care of it. He... he would want that."

Alistair looked down at the chalice, unable to help the emotions that flooded to the surface. Placing the cup in his pack, he grabbed Serena's hand and squeezed it tightly. "I want to find... whatever did this. Find them, and push my sword so deep into their flesh, the bloody _archdemon_ will feel it."

* * *

><p>The bridge leading to the tower was little worse for the wear than the last time Serena had stood upon it. Large chunks of the stone were still missing, cracked from boulders and spells being hurled at it. Darkspawn and human bodies alike littered the bridge nearest camp, where it appeared as if the archers on the wall had tried to hold the bridge as long as possible before simply being overwhelmed.<p>

Serena couldn't help but feel fury burn inside her as she thought of Loghain, standing just beyond the bridge, hundreds of men at his command... simply waiting. If they hadn't turned north, would Ostagar look like this? Would the horde have been able to overcome Cailan's grand army? Serena shook her head, the thoughts haunting her.

"My dear, you need to see this." Zevran appeared beside her, his usually amiable eyes looking grave. He tugged her along the bridge until she saw it. A makeshift cross, built by the darkspawn, was propped up in the very center of the bridge. A large blonde man was strung up from the top, his hands and feet bound to the stiff rotted wood, arrows piercing his skin in a grisly display. Two pointed planks were propped up behind the man, as if to make him appear as some gruesome looking parody of a benevolent spirit of the Fade.

Serena gasped, tripping on her own feet at she realized who it was that hung before her. His kind and open face, promising his army to aid her against Arl Howe... His talk of glorious battles, and the outright admiration he had shown for the Grey Wardens, and Duncan. Hot tears sprung to Serena's eyes as the memories flooded in, and she heard Wynne behind her, a sob choking out as she, too, recognized their king.

"Cailan!" Alistair's shout was anguished as he ran forward, his hands reaching for the body of his half-brother. Nearly to the fallen king, Serena saw him turn as they heard an ear-splitting screech. A handful of darkspawn were rushing at them from the other side, an emissary among them.

"You will _die!_" Alistair bellowed, pulling his sword as he charged the line. Serena fumbled to her feet, hurrying after him, Zevran right beside her as they sprinted to catch him. She could hear Wynne behind her, already chanting a spell.

"Alistair! They have a mage!" Serena watched as Alistair swung his sword, decapitating the first darkspawn in a smooth gesture and bashing the next back with his shield. His fury was pouring off of him in waves, and she saw him put out his hands as a rush of energy expelled from him in all directions, knocking the small mob of darkspawn onto their backs. Like lightning he struck them, his sword slashing through the corrupted fiends as Zevran and Serena just reached him in time for the emissary to scramble to his feet and try to scurry away.

"You think you can run?" Serena cried, throwing her dagger at the beasts' back as she ran after it, cursing loudly. With her second dagger, Serena ripped into the magic-wielding darkspawn, cutting it's face from his head. "You bloody savages defiled my king! He was the _best_ of us, and you killed him! You killed them all!" She stabbed and cut, black ichor running from the wounds, her grief and rage only abating when Zevran came, touching her shoulder lightly.

"It's dead, my dear. You could not kill it any deader." Zevran pulled Serena to her feet, taking her dagger from the back of the darkspawn, and wiped it with a cloth, handing it back to her. "I understand you all have lost much here, but we should keep our wits about us, no?"

"Yes, you're... you're right. I... I'm sorry." Serena put a hand to her head, trying to block out the headache that was forming there. "We lost _everything_ here, but I did not think it would be this difficult to return."

"Are you injured at all?" Zevran asked, his amber eyes searching her body.

"No, no... I... this is all... its' blood." Serena looked down at her boots, feeling ashamed for losing complete control. Wynne and Alistair stood nearby, she saw, Alistair getting a wound on his arm healed by the mage, his face still contorted in angry lines.

"They're wearing _his_ armor," Alistair said quietly. He rolled his shoulder, testing the arm Wynne had healed, and marched over to the fallen emissary, pulling the golden gauntlets and greaves from its body. "This is just... _madness_. They sully his body, and then have the nerve to steal his armor and wear it around?" He kicked at the bloody mass that was formally the darkspawn's face and Serena heard a wet throp sound. "Bastards."

Serena turned, looking at the other darkspawn Alistair had decimated. Indeed, all of them were bedecked in a mish-mosh of found armor pieces, two in particular standing out. A hurlock's decapitated body wore Cailan's golden breastplate, black ichor oozing out the top of it.

Another fat darkspawn, nearly cleaved in two by Alistair's blade, bore the late king's helm atop it's head. As Serena worked to get the breastplate off, she saw Wynne drop down beside the genlock and pull the helm from its body. The older mage handed the helm to Alistair as Serena finally pried the plate from the darkspawn's chest, crushing it's exposed rib cage under her boot after.

"They'll need a through cleaning to get all the darkspawn filth off, but... they'd fit you, if you wanted to wear it." Serena's voice was soft as she handed the breastplate to Alistair. He stood quietly, staring down at the golden pieces of armor in his hands and shook his head.

"I don't know. Maybe. I can't think about it right now... they're so... tarnished." Alistair set the pieces into his pack, his honey eyes distant and closed off. He wandered past them and back down the bridge; back to the hideous display the darkspawn had made of the former king of Ferelden.

"Forgive us, my king," Alistair intoned, bending to one knee, sadness and grief laying thick in his voice. "Once we've flushed the darkspawn from their holes and bought ourselves some time... we'll be back to see you to the Maker." He stood again to face Serena, but his eyes focused beyond her, to the enormous structure she knew awaited them. "Up there. The Tower of Ishal. Let's do this."

"As you command," Serena replied, pulling her daggers.


	48. Chapter 48

**Authors Note:** This was a ridiculously rough chapter to write, very emotional, so I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks all for the kind reviews and for following along! As always, it is much appreciated.

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><p><span>Chapter 48<span> - _Déjà Vu_

"It all feels the same," Serena murmured. "It's just like reliving a nightmare..."

They were trudging up the path to the tower, and Alistair had his senses pushed wide open for darkspawn. They'd already encountered another small batch of darkspawn as they made their way up the hill towards the giant Tevinter structure. He exchanged quick glances with Serena, and then they were pulling open the doors.

Darkspawn rushed them as soon as they moved inside. Zevran pulled one of the metallic bombs from his belt and tossed it ahead where it exploded into a bright fireball. They heard the screams of the downed monsters and Wynne moved forward, a fireball pushing out of her outstretched hands and into the fiery inferno, increasing the flames.

"I have always enjoyed my opponents a little on the crispy side," the elf quipped, pulling his two long daggers from his back. He grinned as the fire died down, the bodies of the darkspawn little more than ashes.

"Where did you get those fiery bomb things, by the way?" Serena had her bow out, remembering how handy it had been the last time she had been here. "I saw you use them against one of the sylvans, too."

"I make them, actually," Zevran replied. "I can teach you back at camp. It is a delicate art, to make sure one does not blow themselves up while producing them. For now..." The assassin pulled two of the small bombs out of his belt and handed one each to Serena and Alistair. "You never know when you may need a little explosive help, no?"

The next room held a few traps that Serena and Zevran deactivated quickly while Alistair and Wynne covered them. Alistair could feel the presence of more darkspawn just ahead, they were pressing in on his senses, and he knew they could feel his and Serena's signatures as they steadily moved closer and closer.

"Be ready," Alistair called, readying his sword. "They're coming!"

The darkspawn flooded through the door, an ogre pushing in among them. Serena looked up just in time to roll to the side, pushing the leg-holder trap across the ground in front of her to slow the horde. Pulling her bow, she fired arrow after arrow as she backed up to where Zevran was already engaged with a fat poorly armored genlock, which he easily overpowered, kicking the corpse away.

Serena turned, aiming instead for the ogre, and fired off another arrow, right into it's face. The beast howled, preparing to charge them. Pushing Zevran out of the way, she backed up, a crazy plan forming in her mind as the ogre raced towards her.

"Serena! What-"

She heard Zevran call to her as she pulled her daggers, sprinting towards the wall as the ogre growled right behind her, its stomping feet nearly shaking the ground. One, two, three huge steps and she was up the wall and flipping through the air, the ogre crashing into it below as she landed hard on its back. Slamming her daggers down into the base of the ogre's skull, she twisted them quickly before pulling them out and slamming them down again. She felt the ogre jerk beneath her once before lying still, it's horns still lodged in the wall.

"¡Mujer loca!" Zevran shouted, running over to her. "¡Usted es una mujer loca!" He shook his head, slicing his dagger down the side of the ogre to ensure it was dead, before he pulled her down off it's back. "That was marvelous, but _braska_, you are one crazy woman."

Slicing his way through the last of the darkspawn, Alistair ran to her, shouting obscenities. "Are you mad? You could have been killed!"

"Says the man who ran at an entire group of darkspawn not ten minutes ago," Serena replied, her hand on her hip. "Don't you lecture me about _crazy_, sweet prince."

Zevran laughed. "You were listening to that bit I said about keeping your wits, yes?"

"Listen, you two, I knew what I was doing. It may have _appeared_ impulsive, but it was completely planned." Serena held out her hands. "See? Not a scratch on me." She strolled up to Alistair, putting a hand under his chin. "You, on the other hand, are bleeding."

Alistair wiped a hand across his face and grimaced, the blood smearing on his cheeks. He pulled some of the healing cream from his pack and wiped it on the cut, scowling at Serena. "You got lucky."

"Eh, maybe," Serena agreed with a small shrug. "But the good news is I didn't break my arm this time, right?" She rubbed at the ointment on Alistair's face and smiled as the cut quickly healed. "We'll stick together from now on, okay? No more heroics."

"Wardens! There is a tunnel up here," Wynne called from the next room. As Alistair and Serena entered the room, they saw Zevran was already in there, pushing uselessly against the metal door that led to the top of the tower.

"The door is blocked," the assassin said, rolling his eyes. "I cannot help but think we are being corralled into that mysterious looking hole in the ground."

Serena groaned. "Great, because that's _obviously_ not a trap."

Wynne leaned over the side, shooting a fireball down into the gloom. Lighting it up briefly, Serena peered into the tunnel, seeing nothing but a rough stone floor. Pushing out with her senses, she felt... something... large. "Well, I'm not going to lie. There's definitely... _something_ down there. Something corrupted by the Blight, but..."

"It's not darkspawn," Alistair finished. "Or, it's not _exclusively_ darkspawn." He kneeled at the edge of the hole as Wynne handed him her now glowing staff, and prepared to drop into the abyss. "Well, down the hole and into the deep."

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><p>Below the tower, the tunnels were strange. The walls were covered in old Tevinter runes that even Wynne couldn't translate, but bizarrely enough, the darkspawn corruption did not extend to these lower halls. They made their way slowly through the maze of passageways, many of which were blocked by enormous boulders or thick tree roots.<p>

Giant spiders, the 'somethings' Serena had sensed from above, lurked in many of the ceiling's large fractures. Wynne walked near the front, burning cobwebs out of their way as Serena held her bow at the ready, an arrow already nocked in preparation for any beasts that got past the mage's fireballs.

After a few encounters with the Blighted arachnids, Serena realized you could end the spiders quickly enough with an arrow to their bloated abdomens, although that tended to cause them to...

"Disgusting!" Alistair exclaimed, wiping spider entrails from his hair and shoulders. "Could we _not_ do that again?"

"Why you do not use that shield of yours, my friend..." Zevran began with a shrug.

"I didn't think they'd bloody _explode_!" the templar replied, running his hands uselessly through his hair. Serena bit her lip to hold in a laugh as his fingers just caused it to push up in little spikes all over his head. "Oh, why do I even bother?"

Zevran laughed. "A question I have often asked myself. Your hair is an enigma to me, truly."

"Not all of us prefer to wear our hair in silly lady braids, I suppose. Wynne, can't you... summon some water or something?" Alistair whined. "My hair is all sticky with spider goo."

"It doesn't work like that, young man," the older mage replied, a small smile playing across her lips as she exchanged glances with Serena. "Why don't you just use your waterskin?"

"I'm all out. I was going to refill it, but the last river we passed was practically _ice_, and..." Alistair shrugged, obviously piqued at their lack of assistance. "I thought magic was meant to _serve_ man..."

Taking pity on the blonde, Serena saddled up to him, opening her waterskin on his head. "That better?" Shaking like her mabari, Alistair rubbed the water into his sandy hair, nodding happily. The slick locks still stuck up all over the place, but at least now they were somewhat clean.

"I believe we are at the end of the tunnels, my friends!" Zevran shouted back to them. Serena jogged to the front of the party, her bow at the ready.

The snow-covered ground looked much the same as they'd left it, albeit this area was covered with darkspawn corpses. A massive ogre laid dead before them, two weapons protruding from its' chest, just a hundred paces from Serena's feet.

"This must be where they made their final stand," Alistair said quietly, his face looking infinitely sad. "The king and... and D-Duncan... and the rest of them." They moved through the mangled bodies, heading for the ogre. Serena could see Alistair's eyes locked on the two weapons in the beasts' chest. Her Grey Warden senses were going crazy out here however, with the taint pressing on her from all directions, pumping in her blood.

"Wardens! Hold!" Wynne cried, a bolt of lightning darting past them. Serena tackled Alistair to the ground, grabbing a rotted darkspawn shield to protect them from the bright explosion as Wynne's spell knocked into a risen genlock. "A necromancer! He is raising them from the dead!"

Pure horror was reflected back at her as Serena exchanged glances with Alistair. All around them the darkspawn rose from the ground, many of them missing arms or legs... one even missing a head. With a shriek, Serena pulled Alistair away from the ogre as it started to rise, a low growl in it's throat.

"Maker, preserve us!" Serena shouted as she kicked one of the enfeebled darkspawn away with her boot. Beside her, Alistair pulled his sword, swiping clean through the middle of a undead hurlock.

"I did not think these things could get worse," Zevran shouted from nearby, where he was spinning his two long daggers in wide arcs, battling three opponents at once. "Yet, undead, they are even more alarming, I think!"

Over their heads, another crack of lightning shot from Wynne's staff as two darkspawn dropped back into the snow, their bodies burned out husks.

"It's too many! I can't even-" Serena cursed loudly, her daggers ripping into a hurlock's chest. Flipping backwards, she pushed herself out of the way of two more darkspawn, both missing appendages, as they flailed wildly, trying to grab at her. Landing hard, she spun, sweeping one of them off its feet as she sunk her dagger into its face.

"Just keep pressing them down, Serena!" Alistair called back, his shield smashing through a trip of fat darkspawn, one of them headless and dripping black ichor. "We can't outrun this many!"

In answer to his premonition, the ogre bellowed, slamming it's fists into the ground as they felt the ground rock beneath them slightly. Serena saw Alistair turn and charge the ogre, his shield pushing the beast off it's feet again before it had a chance to move as Serena worked to make her way through the undead horde surrounding her.

"They just keep rising back up!" Serena beat down two more, only to have another darkspawn rise, a shriek this time, its claws raking across her right arm. Screaming, Serena slammed her dagger around into the fiend's neck, dropping it to the ground.

"I believe I have a solution to that," Zevran called, sprinting past the ogre and Alistair as he made his way to the stout darkspawn emissary casting at the top of the hill. Pulling one of the firebombs from his belt, he tossed it at the magic-wielding monster as another bright explosion discolored their vision.

Up on the hill, Serena could see the elven assassin rip through the charred remains of the darkspawn leader, beheading him swiftly with his crossed daggers. Her body flooded with a second wind as she pushed herself to keep fighting, to take down the rest of the darkspawn between her and Alistair.

Suddenly, she felt a spear in her side and cried out, splitting the shaft in two as she swung the broken end at the snarling genlock in front of her. "Bastards!" The shaft cracked again as it smacked into the creatures' face, the busted end of it ripping through its skin and into his skull. Kicking it to the ground, Serena brought her boot down on its face, the already damaged skull bursting apart.

Turning, she kicked out again, her side burning in pain, as she knocked the final hurlock out of her way. I have to get to him, Serena thought wildly, her body fighting her mind every second. She could see Alistair grappling with the ogre still, magical lightning singeing the great beast in multiple spots.

Coughing, Serena felt blood trickle out of her mouth as she swayed on her feet, her fingers trying to pull the spear end from her belly. "Wynne-" With a shout, she heard the mage's voice beside her, cooling magic pressing across her body as Serena wrenched the spear out of her with a scream.

The wound was still bleeding as she felt another wave of magic wash over her, her skin desperately trying to knit her insides back together. Whimpering in pain, Serena pulled her bow, falling to her knees as she nocked an arrow in it and tried to aim. Everything felt so heavy, her arms, her head... but she... had... to...

With another wrenching scream, Serena pulled the bow back and shot, the arrow landing into the leg of the ogre before she fainted into the wet snow.

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><p>Alistair had heard Serena's screams as he swung his shield in fury, stunning the ogre onto it's back. With a defiant roar, he gripped his long sword in both hands and slammed it down into the ogre's chest. Bringing it up again he stabbed it deep, the sword going down to the hilt as the ogre's body jerked in its death throes.<p>

Beside him, Zevran appeared, his twin daggers out and covered in black ichor. With a swift nod, the assassin brought his own daggers down into the face of the ogre, a stream of thick dark ooze pushing out onto the mottled snow all around it's head.

"Serena! Oh, Maker-" The ogre forgotten for the moment, Alistair ran to her, dropping at Serena's side in the snow, her form cradled against him. "Come on, sweetheart..." She lay pathetically in his arms, her body completely limp. "I can feel your heartbeat..."

Wynne came running then, the last of the darkspawn felled behind her. As she kneeled beside them, Zevran stood nearby, his amber eyes focused on their fallen leader.

She won't die, he thought. Not _here_, of all places. To stave off the emotions he felt burning at his eyes, the assassin wandered over to the downed ogre, pulling Alistair's discarded long sword from the great beast's chest. As an afterthought he pulled the other two blades as well, a dagger and a long sword, both well made and nearly frozen to the touch.

Glancing at them briefly, Zevran shrugged, carrying them back to where Serena lay still in the snow, supported by Alistair, and dropped them beside the two Wardens.

"Here is your sword, my friend, as well as the two blades stuck in that filthy beast." Zevran grimaced as he took in Serena's face, dried blood around her mouth, her skin as pale as the snow around her. Wynne was sitting nearby, her eyes closed in concentration and magical blue light radiated from both her hands. "Has she...?"

"Wynne is healing her organs right now," the templar said softly. "The spear was tipped with deathroot extract, so it's... it's going slowly."

"Then perhaps I could be of more use," Zevran replied, dipping into his pack. Pulling out a small leather pouch, he tapped out two vials, eyeing each carefully. Kneeling down, he unscrewed one of the vials, sniffing it quickly, before he reached for Serena. "Hold her up straight now, I need to get some of this down her throat, and I don't want her to choke on it."

Alistair eyed the vial warily. "What is it?"

"An antidote to deathroot," the assassin replied. "In my line of work, I find it's helpful to have antidotes to many different types of poisons. Now, hold her still. She may... what is the word? Convulse."

Tipping the vial into her open mouth, Zevran and Alistair waited anxiously as the antidote worked its way through Serena's body. A slight tremor began in her muscles, but nothing terrible, nothing like Zevran had seen the last time he'd used it, anyway. With a sputtering cough, Serena's eyes opened once again and she groaned, trying to lean forward.

"Don't move so much," Alistair whispered, easing her back down. "Wynne is still healing you."

"W-what... happened?" Serena's voice was hoarse and she groaned again, a hand going to the closing wound at her side. "Ogre?"

"Dead," Alistair replied. He noticed Wynne had stopped now, and was knocking back a blue liquid from a small vial. Lyrium. "How do you feel?"

"I've been better. But I think I'm nearly mended." Serena peered at the neat hole in her leather armor, scowling slightly. "This was new, too."

"We can patch that up easily enough, my dear," Zevran added. "Do you think you can stand?" He put out a hand to her that she grasped gratefully, using his weight to pull her to her feet.

"Thanks, all of you. Bastard came out of nowhere... they just kept rising..." Serena shook her head, her blue eyes catching on the weapons Zevran had dropped. "Those. Where did you…?"

"They were already in the chest of the beast Alistair felled," the assassin replied. "Why do you ask?"

"These were Duncan's," Serena said quietly, picking up the dagger and running a finger over the inscription on the hilt. "_In peace, vigilance. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice_." She looked at Zevran, a tear making its way down her dirty cheek. "That's the Grey Warden motto."

She picked up the sword next, wordlessly handing it to Alistair, and he took it, his expression the precise twin of hers. Zevran watched as they grasped hands, both kneeling to the ground. Serena's voice was a bare whisper as she bowed her head and prayed.

"Sweet Maker, although his body is lost to us, we pray that You place him at Your side. Duncan was a great man, and I pray to You that we are able to carry ourselves with a fraction of his grace and ability, that we are worthy of his faith in us. Please protect him, and let him know Your love, and may he know that every day he is thought of with ours..."

Listening to her, Zevran wondered if this was a Grey Warden practice, to honor the dead, or simply part of Serena's own religious upbringing. During his weeks with her, he noticed she had a hard time letting the dead go without a quick prayer to the Maker, even if she barely knew them, as in the case with the mage, Niall.

With a choked sob, Serena stood, wrapping her arms around Alistair. The elven assassin could hear him whispering in her ear, his own tears slipping down his reddened cheeks, before Wynne politely pulled Zevran away, leaving the Wardens to their grief.


	49. Chapter 49

**Author's Note:** Thanks everyone for the reviews and for following along! The info on Antiva is remarkably... scant, so I worked off medieval Italy (which info is also remarkably scant, ha) to fill in some blanks. Hope you all enjoy.

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><p><span>Chapter 49<span> - _Fit for a King_

The pyre was hastily built, made of downed logs and bits of broken barricades the four of them had been able to scavenge from the area around the Tower of Ishal. Serena wished they could have taken his body back to Denerim and given their king the funeral he truly deserved, but she knew it wouldn't have mattered in the end.

Parading into the capital with the dead body of King Cailan in tow and they would have been lucky to survive the first five minutes, immediately people would jump on them as traitors to the crown. Loghain would have them arrested and placed in Fort Drakon for torturing and Maker knew what else. So deeply had the king's father-in-law sunk in his madness, Serena knew not what would await them, to what extent Loghain would hunt them, if they tried to give their former king a proper funeral.

Alistair and Zevran were gently laying Cailan's form on the wooden planks now. Taking him down from the gruesome display had been trying enough, his body pierced with arrows and strung up with rope and bits of wire by filthy darkspawn hands.

Wynne had pulled a cloth from her pack and wiped away much of the dirt and blood from the king's wounds, so now he appeared to only be sleeping, instead of the dirty disheveled mess he's been previously.

Alistair crossed his half-brother's arms across his chest, stepping back from the pyre, his head bowed solemnly. "He was a good man who hoped too much and died too young. He deserves what little honor we can afford to grant him."

Dropping to one knee, Serena watched as Wynne lit the pyre with her hands, the old wood catching easily. Flames licked across the king's body as the pyre caught, burning brightly in the afternoon sun.

"You should say something, Serena," Alistair said softly, kneeling beside her. "You're... much better with... words and things." Beside him, Wynne nodded, tears slipping silently down her wrinkled cheeks.

"_All men are the Work of our Maker's Hands. From the lowest slaves to the highest kings_," Serena said quietly. "Our king... he was... the best of us all. His will was the strongest, his life the brightest. I pray that you find your way to our Maker's side, King Cailan."

Serena took a deep breath, running her hand swiftly across her eyes. "I pray... that you find the glory that eluded you in life beside Him. May you always rest peaceful at or Maker's side, always in His light. In your blood, we shall find resolution, and defeat those who set themselves against us, and against your kingdom. Amen."

"Amen," echoed Wynne and Alistair. Zevran stood off to the side, his head bowed and hands clasped in front of him. In Antiva, they had enormous processions for the royal dead, with the people wearing black garments for days, even weeks at a time, in respect to the fallen. Considering the Crows routinely took out politicians and royalty alike in Antiva City, the people of the capital could be dressed for mourning for years at a time.

"We should get back to the others," Serena said softly, her eyes still lingering on the blazing fire. Shaking her head, she led them back through the snow to where Leliana and the others were camped with the Feddic's wagon, a slight limp in her step.

"Serena!" The red-headed bard held up an arm in a wave, running towards their group as they emerged from the lower ruins. "We were so worried- we hadn't seen a single darkspawn, and Morrigan was sure you all had been overrun."

"Ah, that was very nearly so, but..." Serena shrugged. "We found King Cailan. He's... he's with the Maker now."

Leliana nodded solemnly, wrapping Serena in a hug. "If you have a moment, I found some of the... well, I found some documents and things." Leliana's voice was soft in her ear, and she pulled back, her eyes looking sharply around.

"Show me," Serena said simply, following the bard back to the wagon.

Leliana pulled out a packet of papers from her knapsack sitting there, and a long blade, carved deeply with what looked to be dwarven runes. "These were in a chest in the King's camp. It's correspondence, from Empress Celene, and..." She held out the sword. "This, I believe, was King Maric's. I had heard tales, of the sword he carried, carved with runes that glowed brightly against the darkspawn."

Serena examined the blade closely, it glowed ever-so-slightly in her hands in response to the taint that flowed through her veins. She turned and beckoned to Alistair, who came to stand beside them, his honey colored eyes lingering on her side where she knew a puckered scar was trying desperately to heal.

"This was your father's, Alistair," Serena said, showing him the blade. "It responds to the taint." She saw he carried Duncan's sword in a makeshift sheath created by his shield on his back, the sword in his belt was still the one he had found on the bandits in Lothering. "If you'd like...?"

"Where did you find it?" he asked quietly, his eyes flipping between the two women.

"In a chest with documents and miscellaneous things from the king," Leliana replied. "I don't know why Cailan didn't use it in battle, it is a fine sword. Perhaps..."

"He knew we'd lose," Alistair finished. "He didn't want it lost." Pulling the old sword from his belt, he replaced it with Maric's blade, which glowed gently in his hand before going dark again within the sheath. "We can sell this one at the next town, I suppose. It's still a fine sword."

"You said these documents were letters, between the Orlesian empress?" Serena prompted the bard.

"Yes, it's... well, perhaps you should look over them yourself. One of the letters is from Arl Eamon, as well," she added, glancing at Alistair. Tapping the back of the wagon, the three of them sat down, spreading out the letters between them. Once read, Serena felt a headache coming on that had nothing to do with the darkspawn.

"I... wow." Alistair set down the letter Serena had finished reading moments before. "So, the plot thickens, I suppose." He frowned, running a hand through his hair. "It's interesting, if Loghain had allowed the Orlesian forces to back us... perhaps this place wouldn't look like this now... I wonder if he knew...?"

"About the Arl's letter to Cailan? I wondered that myself," Serena answered, tapping the letter in question. "Arl Eamon obviously believes Anora is... is barren, and... it seemed as if he was pressuring Cailan, or... at the very least, _implying_ that a marriage between the two countries..." Serena sighed. "Can you imagine? If Loghain saw Cailan was about to put aside his daughter in favor of an _Orlesian_?" She looked quickly to Leliana, smiling apologetically. "No offense, of course. But Loghain..."

"He'd go mad," Alistair replied. "Perhaps he _has_ gone mad. Bann Teagan certainly seemed to think so when he saw him declare himself regent a few weeks ago."

"Do you think Anora is...?"

"She's nearly thirty." Alistair shrugged. "You tell me when women stop being able to carry children to full term?"

"It is not unheard of," said Leliana carefully. "But... there are risks, with older women. While thirty is not old by any normal standard, in child-bearing..." She trailed off. "Hadn't they been married for a few years yet?"

"Five, I think," Serena said, counting quickly on her fingers. "Cailan married her just after the coronation, I believe. A month or so later. My parents came to Denerim for the wedding. Luckily Fergus and I were allowed to stay back..." Serena paused, tipping her head up to stare at the roof of the wagon. Mentioning her brother always made her tear up a bit. "Anyway, I think a lot of people were wondering when they'd have an heir. _If_ they'd have an heir. My mother always said perhaps Anora was too ambitious to have children."

"How do you mean?"

"_And as the black clouds came upon them, They looked on what pride had wrought, And despaired_." Serena shrugged. "Granted, I believe that part is about the Tevinter Imperium and their descent, but the same idea applies, I believe. I don't know, you'd see what I mean if you met her. Anora has always had her eye on the prize."

"Perhaps she even enjoys being a single monarch. Then again, I'm biased, because I simply don't like her." Serena folded up the letters and tucked them into her pack. "Regardless, we have a few more things to take care of before we continue on to Haven."

"Oh?" At Serena's intense look, Alistair sighed. "Right. The swamp witch."

"Swamp witch?" Leliana asked.

"We have to... deliver an amulet... to Morrigan's mother. She lives a bit further south of here." Serena shrugged again, as if this was a needless errand and not a life-or-death mission. "She saved our lives, so I suppose we owe her one."

"If you take the horses, you could be back in a few hours, I imagine," Leliana said, gesturing to the two mounts munching nearby on a bale of hay Bodahn had brought along.

"That's a good idea," Alistair replied, brightening. "I've about had it with walking for today."

"Right, well, let's be off then." Serena turned to Leliana. "I'm leaving you and Sten in charge. She won't tell you so, but Wynne is most definitely tapped out for awhile. She spent a lot of her energy on healing me not so long ago, so if you can get her to rest, it'd be good for all of us."

She glanced around their makeshift camp. Morrigan had already set up her small tent contraption and was making health poultices near her fire. "I believe we flushed all the darkspawn out of the area for awhile, so it should be safe enough to continue camping here for the night. Alistair and I should be back before full-dark."

"Maker's speed to you both," Leliana said, giving Serena another hug.

* * *

><p>Without the small map Morrigan had made for Serena, she realized they quickly would have become completely lost. The Korcari Wilds looked just as confusing and desolate as before, with the added annoyance of sheer cold. They arrived at Flemeth's hut by late afternoon, Alistair and Serena dismounting just beyond the stones that led to her front door.<p>

"And so you return," the old woman said, coming up behind them. "Lovely Morrigan has at last found someone willing to dance to her tune. Such enchanting music she plays, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, I don't know, she's not much of a musician," Serena replied, watching the old woman as she made her way to the small wooden hut. "She can be downright intimidating on a good day, though... especially when she's swinging that lute around."

Flemeth laughed, her eyes flickering between Serena and Alistair. "What has Morrigan told you, hmm? What little plan has she hatched this time?"

"She... found an old grimoire of yours, and believes..." Serena sighed. "She knows how you extend your... rather unnatural lifespan."

"That she does," Flemeth replied with a clap of her hands. "The question is, do you?"

"You plan on possessing her, right?" Alistair said frankly. "Not that I care, of course, but Serena for some reason happens to like your daughter."

"Ahhh, I see." Flemeth nodded, seemingly to herself, and then eyed Serena again. "Let us skip right to the ending then, shall we? Do you slay the old wretch as Morrigan bids? Or does the tale take a different turn?"

"I need Morrigan, that much is true, but... Alistair and I wouldn't even _be_ here if not for you. These are two absolute truths that are... in conflict." Serena sighed. "I do not know if I have much of a choice."

"Choice, indeed. There is power in choices, as there is in lies." Flemeth nodded again, seeming to come to a decision about something. "I shall give you one of each."

"Morrigan wishes my grimoire? Take it as a trophy. Tell her I am slain." The old woman shrugged. "What do you say?"

"I prefer to not bite the hand that feeds, or... saves us from a burning tower." Serena exchanged glances with Alistair, who nodded firmly. "I believe we can convince Morrigan of your... most fortuitous demise."

"It's far easier this way, don't you think?" Flemeth replied with a cackle. "The lies are_ always_ more fun."

"Yes, fun. Tricking Morrigan... oh, who am I kidding? That _does_ sound like fun." Alistair laughed. "I'm a bad man." Serena shook her head, a small smile on her face.

"The book is inside the hut, with notes and spells enough to make even Morrigan blush with delight. There is another bundle as well. Take it and go." Flemeth looked over the two Wardens. "You and I... we shall not meet again. That I guarantee." With a swift gesture, the old woman tossed Serena a key and walked off around the side of the hut.

"I can't honestly believe we're not dead right now," Alistair said. "Let's just get the book and go. This place totally creeps me out."

"Agreed." Serena used the key on the lock, realizing had she really wanted to, she probably could have picked it easily enough. On the table was a large leather book, marked with bits of ribbon. Next to it was a small bundle of what appeared to be robes with a little note. Serena flicked the note open, reading it quickly. It appeared as if Flemeth knew they were coming. Had this perhaps been planned between her and her daughter all along?

"You know, I can't quite fight the feeling we're being played here," Serena said softly, stowing both packages in her knapsack.

Alistair laughed. "Of course we're being played. They're _witches_, Serena. It's all they know how to _do_. It's like expecting your mabari to act like a cat. Or Sten to act like a human. They just can't do it." They headed out of the hut and mounted their horses again. Flemeth was still nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she'd turned into a bird and flew away.

"I suppose you're right," Serena relented, jockeying Aster to a trot. "Let's just, forget this happened, eh? It's been a long day and I'd rather not worry about the nefarious plots of swamp people."

"I knew you'd see reason eventually," Alistair called, leading them back through the Wilds to the ruins of Ostagar.

* * *

><p>They arrived back at their temporary camp just as night was falling. Smartly, Alistair had suggested they stop by a nearby river and rough themselves up a bit, so the lie would be more easily believed by Morrigan.<p>

"Surely she knows her own mother's powers better than us, right?" he'd said, reopening a gash on his cheek from the darkspawn they'd fought briefly on the way back. "I doubt if we just wander into camp looking no worse for the wear, she'd be instantly suspicious."

"You, my love, are absolutely _brilliant_," Serena replied, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

"Mmm, say that again," he murmured.

"That you're brilliant, or that I love you?"

"Either," Alistair whispered, pulling her close. "Then I need you to punch me in the face."

* * *

><p>Serena appeared at Morrigan's tent, still limping slightly and with a nice bruise having developed around her right eye. Alistair hadn't wanted to punch her, but when Serena told him it was either a punch, or he'd have to cut her with his blade, he wisely chose his fists. Biting her lip nervously, she saw Morrigan's yellow eyes snap up at her approach, although she could tell the witch was trying to appear aloof, as usual.<p>

She dumped her pack unceremoniously on the ground near the small fire and plunked down beside it, purposefully keeping her eyes downcast. Digging through the pack, she pulled out the grimoire and silently handed it to Morrigan.

"I... my thanks, Serena," the witch said softly, taking the large book carefully. Her yellow eyes peered around Serena's face, resting on the black eye. "I could heal that for you, if it pains you."

"Nah, I rather like it," Serena replied, putting a hand to her eye gently. "I think it makes me look tough."

"'Tis done then?"

"Yes." Serena's hands slipped into the pack and she pulled out the slightly wrinkled robes. "We found these, too. Thought you might want them, for when it gets colder, up north." She passed the bundle to Morrigan and the witch shook them out, nodding. "Did you... _feel_ anything, when...?"

"No, which I suppose is a good thing." Morrigan stared into the fire briefly, and Serena watched the flames reflect in her golden eyes. "You took the templar with you." Serena noticed she had dropped the fool bit... for now, anyway.

"I'd be dead, if not for him. He took the brunt of it, I'm afraid." Serena glanced over where Alistair was sitting, a health poultice pressed to his cheek. "He disabled her magic just long enough for me to... well, I don't imagine you want to hear about any of this." Serena shrugged. "I'm glad you're... going to be you, or stay you, or whatever."

"Indeed." Morrigan tapped the grimoire with her nails. "I shall study this, starting tonight. Know that your efforts... both of you, they shall not be in vain."

"Well, study hard. Do us proud. If you don't mind, I'm going to go pass out by the fire, it's been a ridiculous day." Serena pulled herself to her feet, slinging the pack, now significantly lighter with the enormous tome gone, onto her back.

"Understandable," Morrigan replied, waving a hand to Serena. "If I should find anything of interest, shall I let you know?"

"Definitely." Serena headed back to the main camp and plopped down beside Alistair at the fire.

Alistair eyed Serena carefully, his hand still pressing the poultice to his cut cheek. "How did it go?"

"Couldn't have been better. Gave her the book, the robes. Asked her if she felt anything when, you know, we..." Serena shrugged, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I think I earned you some pity points, there. She didn't call you any names."

"Really? Will wonders never cease! Never thought I'd be happy to have run into a band of darkspawn," Alistair replied, putting down the poultice to wrap his arm around her shoulders. Kissing the top of her head, they sat quietly, watching Leliana and Zevran play Wicked Grace across the camp, beyond the firelight. Sten was sharpening his sword nearby while Peanut dutifully snored at his feet.

"It's times like these when I think, you know, maybe... we can actually _do_ this." Serena sighed. "Maybe we won't all be gobbled up by darkspawn or murdered by demons or-"

"Dragon cults," Alistair supplied. At Serena's blank stare, he continued. "I was reading about them, actually. That book, that the fake assistant fellow had on his desk... It was written by a Chantry scholar, not Genitivi, but... anyway, it said that the cultists, they... ingest... a rather large amount of dragon blood, in exchange for taking care of its young."

"Disgusting. They drink its blood?"

"Well, its _babies_ blood, actually," Alistair corrected, making a face. "I guess they're permitted to kill a few of its young in exchange for protecting the majority of them." He shrugged. "I can't even imagine how many young a high dragon must have, then, if a bunch of them are sacrificed for... yuck."

"So... the blood. What does it..." Serena gulped. "What does it do?"

Alistair closed his eyes briefly before staring up at the stars. "Supposedly it's said to have some strange... long-term effects. Greater strength, endurance... an increased desire to _kill_..."

"Fantastic. Ignore my earlier comment then," Serena muttered, putting a hand to her forehead. "_Dragon cults_. Sweet Maker, what next?"

"I thought that might cheer you up a bit," Alistair replied sarcastically, his arm squeezing her gently to his side. "Like I said, it's never a puppy cult, is it?"

"I'd rather it be a cookie cult," Serena mumbled, resting her head in the crux of his shoulder once again.

"I think Sten would like that, too."


	50. Chapter 50

**Author's Note:** Ah, 50 chapters already! It feels like I just started writing this a few days ago. (Turns out it was June.) Time flies! Anyway, thanks to everyone reviewing and following along. You're all so great! This chapter has some different POV's in it, Sten and Leliana, and both were _very_ fun to write, so I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 50<span> - _The Lay Sisters Secret_

"If you don't mind my asking, how long did you live in Lothering?"

Leliana glanced over at Serena as they walked side by side up the trail. She was rubbing her gloved hands together, her cloak pulled tight against the wind. Leliana supposed the rather intense cold was probably taking its toll on her, since she hailed from the more balmy coastlands in the north. Lothering had hardened Leliana to it, luckily, as the weather in the south was prone to rapid changes.

Behind her, Zevran was complaining loudly about the freezing temperatures, his tan skin going slightly paler in the freezing wind. Leliana felt a laughing smile push at her lips. Of course the Antivan would find this weather dreadful.

In the snow, the Feddic's wagon moved just as quickly as the rest of them could walk, so they had decided to move ahead to Haven on foot. The two dwarves, Bodahn and his son, were staying in a town just to the east of the Frostbacks, awaiting their return.

Up ahead of them, Morrigan was leading the way through the snowy passages, her sleek black wolf body contrasting harshly against the bluish-white snowdrifts. Serena's mabari was happily bouncing along behind the shifted witch, and Leliana could see Serena was watching him with amusement as the dog pushed his face into the snow, shaking like mad.

Realizing Serena was still expecting an answer, Leliana shook herself out of her musings, blushing lightly. "Ah, my apologies... I spent... a little over two years in the cloister at Lothering."

Serena nodded, as if the long pause was nothing unusual. "And before that, you lived in Orlais, right? Val Royeaux?"

"Yes." She paused. "I... found myself in Ferelden during quite a storm. I sheltered from the bad weather in the Chantry. And when the storm passed, I just... did not want to leave." Leliana shrugged, her cloak billowing around her. "I like to say the Maker brought me here."

"I'm surprised you stayed in the Chantry," Serena replied. "With your skills, you could have made serious coin traveling town to town..." Serena caught Leliana's eye, arching an eyebrow. "You know, singing and such. Did you do well in Orlais?"

"I feel like there is a double meaning to your question," Leiana said demurely.

"I heard in Orlais, that... minstrels were often spies." Serena shrugged her own heavily cloaked shoulders. "One doesn't learn to be that good with a weapon only reading the Chant of Light, no?"

"Not all minstrels are spies, most are just singers and storytellers. But some of them are... are what we call bards." Leliana marched through the snow, her insides now feeling as cold as her outside. She could sense Zevran was now listening to their conversation, although wisely he stayed just far enough that Serena did not appear to notice him. "I thought perhaps... since you often referred to me as a bard, you... knew."

"So, there _is_ a difference!" Serena said excitedly, as if she just won a point in a game. "I wanted to ask before, but Alistair said not to..." She looked back quickly, as if checking to see if the templar was paying any attention to them. "He didn't want me to upset you."

"I am not upset," Leliana replied, and found she was actually speaking the truth. "Many use the two words "minstrel" and "bard" interchangeably, but to do so in Orlais could cause a... rather grave misunderstanding. Bards _are_ minstrels, and more." She grinned slightly. "So much more."

"Many bards work alone, or in small groups, doing the bidding of a patron who pays for their services..." Leliana paused, wondering if maybe she was telling their roguish leader a bit too much, and perhaps even putting her in danger, but the intrigued look on Serena's face was so tempting. "Nobles and their families, mostly, as I'm sure you can imagine."

"I could see a bit of that happening around Ferelden, actually," Serena said with a tiny smirk. "Considering the current political climate..."

"In Orlais, there is _much_ rivalry amongst the high-born. They fight over land, influence, and the favor of the empress. But they cannot do this openly because..." The bard glanced at Serena, but the brunette was now staring obstinately at her boots as they traipsed through the snow, her hair a curtain blocking her face from Leliana's view. "...It is impolite, and in public they wear smiling faces and pretend to be civil. But in secret, they plot and scheme to destroy each other. It is a game completely meaningless to anyone but its players."

"Did you... kill people? You must have, right?" Serena tucked her long hair into her hood and pursed her lips, as if unsure whether she should continue. Her emotions played plainly across her features, and in that moment, Leliana could see exactly what Alistair found so endearing about the brown-haired beauty. "You don't have to tell me anything, if you don't want to. I'd understand."

"I... it is... well..." Leliana chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to find a way to phrase what she wanted to say without outright frightening Serena. "I came to Ferelden... and the Chantry because... I was being hunted, in Orlais." She saw Serena's eyes go a bit wider, but otherwise, the woman had little reaction to her admission other than catching her full attention. "What happened to me... maybe it will affect us, maybe not, but you should know."

They passed into a canyon between the great snowy mountains and the momentary break from the wind was a welcome relief. Leliana could heard Zevran sigh, murmuring something in Antivan as he moved to stand behind the qunari, using him a shield against the cold.

Serena's voice was barely above a whisper as she moved closer to Leliana. "Who is hunting you? I mean, they aren't _now_, right? You've been here all this time..."

"I do not know if Marjolaine is still watching me, perhaps she has given up. It has been a long time." At Serena's quizzical look, Leliana smiled. "I should probably start from the beginning, hmm?"

"It would help," Serena said softly.

"I was framed, betrayed by someone I thought I knew and could trust. Marjolaine- she was my mentor... and friend. She taught me the bardic arts- how to enchant with words and song, to carry myself like a high-born lady, to blend in as a servant..." Leliana pulled at a bit of loose thread on her cloak, her hands greedy for something to do. "The skills I learned I used to serve her as my bard-master, because I loved her, and because I enjoyed what I did."

"Did she love you back? How... how did she betray you?" Serena's blue eyes were soft, and Leliana could tell she was thinking of her relationship with Alistair, and if Leliana meant the same sort of love.

"You could say it was my fault," Leliana replied, purposefully ignoring the question. "There was a man I was sent to kill. I was to bring Marjolaine everything he carried. I don't know who this man was. She gave me a name and a description, and I hunted him down. I found documents on his body- sealed documents."

"Important ones, I imagine."

"It turns out that they were. My... curiosity... got the better of me. Something told me I needed to know what was in those letters." Leliana sighed. "Marjolaine... had been selling all kinds of information about Orlais to other countries- Nevarra and Antiva, among others. It was_ treason_."

"Maybe this is a stupid thing to say, but... isn't that... what bards _do_? Spy on people and give them information they probably shouldn't have?"

"I... yes, I suppose, but... I had always assumed Marjolaine only operated within _Orlais_. This was an unhappy surprise for me. My life as a bard taught me that my loyalties should be kept fluid." Leliana put a hand to her head, rubbing out a headache that was starting to form. "My concern was not that she was a traitor, but that her life would be in danger if she was caught. Orlais has been at war with _so_ many countries over the years... it takes a harsh view of such things... as I later discovered.

"Oh no... what did she do? This... Marjolaine?"

"I should have left well enough alone, but I didn't. I had to tell Marjolaine I feared for her life. She brushed aside my concern, however. She admitted her guilt, but said it was in the past. That is why the documents has to be destroyed, she said. I believed her. I kept believing, up until the moment they showed me the documents, altered by her hand to make _me_ look the traitor."

"Who is... they?" Leliana glanced quickly at Serena and noticed her blue eyes were shining.

"The Orlesian guards. They captured me... did terrible things to make me confess and reveal my conspirators... It was a traitor's punishment I endured, and at the end of it, all that awaited me was eternity in an unmarked grave."

"Oh, my goodness, Leli... I'm so sorry!" Serena wrapped an arm around Leliana's shoulders, hugging her sideways. "How did you get out?"

"The skills Marjolaine taught me were good for something, at least," the redhead replied softly. While she thought of her imprisonment nearly every day, Serena's empathy almost made her feel it more this time. "I broke free when I saw the opportunity. I did not seek Marjolaine out. If she thought I was coming for her, she would have me caught again..."

"And that's how you came to Lothering," Serena replied, her eyes closing briefly.

"I was tempted to confront her; I was furious, betrayed, but what could I do against her? And so I fled, to Ferelden, to the Chantry and the Maker. Ferelden protected my person, and the Maker... saved my soul. And... that is the reason I am here."

Next to her, Leliana noticed Serena had slowed, her eyes still closed. What was she doing? Holding back tears? Surely Leliana's story hadn't shocked her that much, had it?

That was when she noticed Serena was swooping down, picking up a white ball of fluff from near her boots. In her arms she held a fat little bunny, it's nose twitching against the cold. Murmuring quietly to it, she moved closer to Leliana, gently passing her the fluffy rabbit.

"I thought maybe... you could use some furry affection for a bit," the young woman said, smiling. "This little guy was already out scavenging, and I promised him some of my rations for this favor."

"He's beautiful," Leliana cooed, removing one of her gloves so she could feel the rabbit's fur on her skin. "How do you... how do you get them to come?"

"I call to them," Serena said. "Sometimes they do not reply, but usually the promise of food is enough for _someone_ to make an appearance, even out in this cold. Some come to me simply out of curiosity. 'Who is it that understands my language?' they wonder." The rogue pulled a bit of dried roots from her rations, handing them to Leliana. "He likes these best." She wrinkled her nose at the rabbit. "Or so he says!"

Leliana felt her apprehension slowly start to ease as she held the rabbit in her arms, snuggling it against her cheeks while it munched on the roots.

"Don't worry about that woman, Marjolaine. If she... if she tries anything... well, we took care of Zevran, didn't we?" Serena grinned, one of her daggers out, flipping idly in her gloved hand. "This is assuming she's stupid enough to go up against a mob of nutcases consisting of two Grey Wardens, a qunari with a bad attitude, two powerful mages, and two extremely talented assassins."

"I was a bard," Leliana corrected, smiling slightly.

"But you killed people for money and whatnot. Same song and dance, really," Serena reasoned. "Only with more... song and dance, I suppose." She giggled at her own joke. "Plus, there's Peanut, who when not chasing squirrels, is occasionally ferocious. Don't worry. We'd die to protect you, and this Marjolaine would have to be_ mad_ to want to-"

"Oh, Andraste's flaming sword! I _know_ where babies come from, Wynne!"

Serena turned her head slightly to listen, her cheeks blushing slightly. "Uh oh..."

"Do you, Alistair? Truly?" Wynne's voice was teetering on jubilant.

"I certainly hope so!" the templar cried, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

"She really gets entirely too much amusement out of torturing him," Serena said quietly to Leliana, shaking her head. "I told him not to call her old-" She paused, listening to their back and forth again.

"...Because you're _wicked_. That frail old lady act? I'm so not fooled!" Alistair called, marching his way past the laughing mage to where Leliana and Serena were walking. "I'm on to her now," he murmured to Serena.

"Everything alright?" Serena asked, arching an eyebrow at the man.

The blonde huffed. "Fine! She just... babies! As if... I was trying... we weren't... she does it on purpose, you know." Alistair frowned, his cheeks still red from the cold and embarrassment. "I almost miss it when she was all '_your love is doooooomed_' and '_you should both be forever alooooooone_' and '_are you looking at Serena's butt? Because there's a Blight to stop_'."

Serena giggled, pushing at his arm. "Stop it."

"Oh, Wynne didn't really say any of that, did she?" Leliana asked, looking between the two of them.

"Not quite to _that_ extent, no," Serena replied, exchanging significant looks with Alistair. "She takes the motherly bit too far sometimes, though." She shrugged, grasping his hand briefly. "No matter. We ought to start looking for a good place to camp for the evening soon. Or at least a rest."

Alistair peered up at the late afternoon sky beyond the canyon peaks. "That map of Genitivi's says the village should be another day's walk, or so. If we keep on the trail until early evening, we could reach it by midday tomorrow, I'll bet." He glanced about, noticing the rabbit in Leliana's arms for the first time. "Bunny!"

Leliana smiled, beginning to hand him the rabbit but he waved her away.

"No, no, I don't want him to get poked by my gauntlets." Alistair put an arm around Serena's shoulders, smiling broadly. "Besides, whenever this one has a good dream now, all the squirrels and birds in the area come poking about our tent."

"I... can't help it, sometimes..." Serena said with a deep blush. "I am getting better, though. At least they aren't coming_ in_ the tent anymore..."

Ahead of them, Peanut suddenly let out a short series of barks and Leliana watched as Serena's head tipped slightly, as if she was interpreting the dog. Given the scope of her new abilities, perhaps she actually was.

"Is it the darkspawn?" Leliana asked, setting the bunny back down on the ground and pulling her bow from her back.

Alistair shook his head. "I don't think so..." Removing his father's sword from it's sheath, he exchanged a quick look with Serena.

"Bandits," she said, pulling her daggers. "Morrigan is stalking them while Peanut distracts." Slipping forward, she and Alistair disappeared around the bend.

"That is amazing." Leliana murmured. She turned to the others. "Ready your weapons, we might be in for a fight."

* * *

><p>The bandits, as it turned out, were a group of men, crazed from the loss of their families, from a nearby village in the mountains. Darkspawn had overrun it in the night while they were out hunting, and everyone had been slaughtered. Men, woman, children... everyone left behind by the hunting party. Serena felt for them. She knew first hand what it felt like to losing everything you knew in the span of a night.<p>

Once they realized Serena and her companions were friendly, their leader, a bearded man named Kuno, had apologized for attacking them so readily.

"You can't imagine what it's been like in these woods," he said, gesturing miserably to the forest around them. "Blighted animals hunt us nearly as much as the darkspawn do."

"Ser, I know it isn't much, after all you and your men have suffered... but my fellow here and I are Grey Wardens, sworn to defend against the darkspawn." Serena gestured to Alistair. "If you'd like, your men are welcome to camp with my companions and I for the evening."

"Thank you, dear lady. It's been three nights since the attack, my men are exhausted... We're trying to get down to the valley... to Gherlen's Pass. The darkspawn push ever further into our lands." Kuno sighed, watching his men tiredly. "Alright men, let's help these fine folks set up camp."

And that is how they ended up over twenty people strong for the night. Not that it helped at all.

* * *

><p>For the first time since he had agreed to accompany this band of fools on the Grey Warden's quest, Sten felt content. The men staying with them for the night were true warriors, hardened by experience and maturity. Kuno and his fellows reminded him of his brothers in the Beresaad.<p>

The two Grey Wardens, while talented fighters, were impulsive and prone to over-emotional losses of control in the middle of battle, especially when one of them became injured. The elf was much better disciplined, Sten supposed this came of his training as an assassin, but still he lacked the ability to focus on the battle at large, instead putting all his attention into the few closest opponents.

The other women... Sten didn't even want to consider them as fighters. The Qun regarded women as equal to men, but not as warriors. Priests perhaps, or craftspeople, or teachers, but certainly never as soldiers. The mages, especially, could hardly be counted on to do any more in battle than confuse the surrounding fighters with flashy lights and loud noises.

Out of all of his companions, Sten felt only the female Warden's hound showed any promise as a _true_ warrior. Fierce, strong, and disciplined, the hound alone fulfilled the requirements of a genuine fighter. Considering how respected the mabari were around Ferelden, he wondered why the people themselves didn't model more of their behavior after the dogs.

Tonight, he and the bard had second watch, starting around midnight. Two of Kuno's men joined them, each taking turns circling the camp. Sten was watching the fire when he heard soft noises coming from the tent the two Grey Wardens shared. Glancing at the bard, he saw she was covering her mouth with one hand, trying to not giggle, and he rolled his eyes. He had thought the two of them could be more discreet than this, but...

In a rush, the female Warden scrambled out of the tent, her daggers held at the ready. "Where is it? Where are they?"

"Serena, I think it was just a-" The male Warden appeared next, pulling an extra shirt on against the cold and rubbing his eyes. "Hey, calm down..." He looked apologetically at Sten, shrugging. "Bad dreams."

"It wasn't just a dream, Alistair! You felt it! The bloody thing _saw_ us!" Serena's eyes hunted around the camp as she pulled on her boots. "Who is patrolling?"

"Cohen," answered one of Kuno's men. "But... I suppose I haven't seen him in a bit. I could go-"

"No, _we'll_ go. Alistair, grab Maric's sword. It's sharper than Duncan's." Serena shoved another dagger in her boot and pulled her cloak around her shoulders before turning to her hound. "Peanut, guard them." The hound let out a bark before trotting over to sit at Sten's side.

"What is going on, Warden?" Sten asked.

"Darkspawn, I think." Serena glanced up at the moon, her eyes closing. "Blight..."

"I think it might-" Alistar began, remerging from their tent, his father's sword in hand. As if in answer, the sword began to glow a soft eerie blue. He cursed.

Morrigan emerged from her own tent now, her staff already glowing. "What is happening?" she demanded.

"Benjen!" The man named Cohen stumbled into the clearing, clutching at his head. "Benjen! Kuno!" Serena ran to him as all around the camp their companions and Kuno's men started emerging from their tents, poking curious heads out.

"It was a bloody owl, came out of nowhere!" Cohen yelled, pulling his hand back from the wound. Serena grimaced as she took in the damage. One of the man's eyes had been clawed badly, and the wounds were still bleeding heavily.

"Get up, everyone, up, up!" Serena called loudly. She pulled the man to her tent where she started to bandage his head. "This'll have to do until we can-"

Overhead, a flock of enormous owls covered the camp, their cries almost deafening, as Leliana stood up, her bow at the ready. Aiming carefully, she shot a steady stream of arrows, and Sten watched as one, two, three owls fell to the ground around their fire. Morrigan's wand lit up and two more ferocious looking owls fell to the ground. So, perhaps he _had_ misjudged the women... slightly.

Another man cried out as an owl swooped down at him, one of Leliana's arrows already poking out of its body. The owls were much larger than normal, with strange split beaks that cracked into four sharp pieces. A blood red eye stared at Sten as he moved, slicing Asala through the air to cut the owl in two.

Suddenly the camp was pandemonium as people moved to grab weapons and armor. A screeching call sounded from the south, and Sten turned to face it, his sword dripping blood. Behind him, Serena and Alistair were both shouting as darkspawn materialized out of the forest around them.

A mixture of shouts and screams, yelling and crying all flooded his ears but Sten tuned it all out, allowing the calm fury he always felt during battle wash over him. His movements became fluid; his sword, his soul, all became one. Darkspawn fell before him, tall hulking ones Alistair called hurlocks, and short fat ones they called genlocks. All fell before him as he swung Asala about.

Serena felt panic rise up in her chest as she pushed the injured man, Cohen, into their tent to protect him from the Blighted owls that bared down on their camp. She could sense more in the forest, animals, Blighted and not, pushing their way to get away from the oncoming...

"Darkspawn!"


	51. Chapter 51

**Author's Note:** Thanks everyone for following along and a special thanks to those of you taking the time to review! I can't tell you how amazing it is to open my inbox and see proof that you guys are enjoying the story.  
>Anyhoot, some chapter notes! In-game, you don't really get a sense of "hardened" Alistair until the Landsmeet, really (where it comes on all of a sudden, which is just bonkers to me), so this chapter deals a bit with how that steadily builds up. Redhold is an Avvar village in the Frostback Mountains, although Kuno and his men are <em>not<em> Avvars, I just borrowed the town name for this, because it's awesome. (Source: Blood of Ferelden, tabletop RPG.)

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><p><span>Chapter 51<span> - _The Tougher Emotions_

The camp was in a panic, that much Serena could tell. With Cohen safely out of the way, she pulled her bow from the front of the tent, firing arrow after arrow into the sky. The owls were just the beginning; she could feel a small horde of darkspawn coming from the south, easily fifty or more.

Zevran passed her, his daggers out as he made his way to Leliana, who was shouting just past the fire. Spells shot out, lighting up parts of the camp as Morrigan and Wynne moved to protect those around them. Alistair was already swinging his father's sword in a quick arc, the blade glowing blue in the presence of the fiends as Serena made her way to him, covering him from the airborne attacks.

Serena's mabari was near the perimeter, alongside Sten, carving their way through the darkspawn that appeared there, attempting to flank their camp. Kuno and the majority of his men had their weapons out, great swords and daggers and shields shining in the firelight.

"Avoid their blood!" Alistair shouted as a group of hurlocks burst through the trees, mismatched armor protecting their hulking bodies. Serena switched to her daggers as she saw Alistair raise his father's shining blue sword defiantly at the oncoming darkspawn. Sensing the runes on it, they cowered back from its righteous light, growling and snarling as Alistair pushed forward, hacking them to bits.

"Let's give these bastards all we got!" Kuno shouted to his men, spurring them into action. "For our families! For Redhold!" The men pressed the darkspawn, and Serena could only see the flash of blades and the shouts of men and darkspawn as they fought.

Slipping through the onslaught, Serena cut her way across the camp as she kicked another fiend back, trying to make her way to Leliana. She could see the redhead on the ground, Zevran battling an enormous hurlock alpha nearby, his daggers slashing faster than the eye could follow. Serena threw one of her daggers at a shriek that streaked past Sten, knocking the dark creature back from Leliana's prone form.

"Leliana? Leliana!" The redhead stirred as Serena shook her gently, her leg laying at a bizarre angle as Serena realized it was severely broken, the bone poking out of just above her boot. Blood pooled beneath her, and Serena wondered what had done this. "Come on, I have to get you out of-"

"No, no, I can't," Leliana pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "It's too... please, leave me! Protect yourself!"

"Not a chance!" Serena shouted back, barreling into a genlock and knocking it to the ground. She stabbed it deep as the thing clawed her bare arms, howling and spitting. "Wynne! Morrigan!"

The witch called out across the camp, her staff swinging into an oncoming darkspawn as she spun and shot a cone of ice into a group of shrieks, freezing them solid. Serena saw Sten turn and swing his great sword straight through the group, shattering them into nothing more than icy chunks. Laughing wildly, Morrigan sprinted towards Serena, her body shifting into a great bear mid-stride.

"Protect Leliana!" Serena shouted as the bear moved it's head in what she assumed was a nod, and rose up on its hind legs. With a ferocious roar, the bear lunged towards the nearest foe, crushing it beneath its huge paws, the claws ripping into its flesh.

"How many are there?" Wynne cried, a fireball pushing out of her hands and into the face of an oncoming darkspawn, knocking it back where it fell dead.

"Only a few more!" Alistair called, his blue blade alerting Serena to his presence on the field. He swung it about, his shield slamming another darkspawn to the ground as he opened its throat with the sword end. "We can do this, just hold on!"

Serena kicked and pushed, slamming her daggers into anything she didn't immediately recognize as human. Black ichor ran down her hands from her blades, the thick darkspawn blood coated her daggers from hilt to tip. Eventually, there was a final screech, and all went silent as the last darkspawn fell under Sten's blade. Serena pushed out with her senses while walking the camp, trying to feel for any more of the fiendish creatures, but she could only feel Alistair's signature, pulsing just above everything else.

"Do you feel any more?" she called to him.

"No, I think... I think it's over." Alistair peered about the camp. A few of Kuno's men laid on the ground, injured or dead, he couldn't tell which. Morrigan was changing back from her bear form, the fur quickly being replaced by great patches of flushed pink skin.

Sten was pulling darkspawn bodies out of the clearing, Serena's mabari beside him, dragging another decapitated hurlock carcass into the trees. "Fortifications should be made around the camp if we are to continue to stay here for the rest of the night," the giant man bellowed to Serena, hulling another body.

"Once we clean everyone up, Sten," Serena replied, kneeling at Leliana's side. Morrigan waved a hand over the bard's wound, her own magic pressing the bone back into place.

"You will need to get Wynne to do some of the finer healing, but this should help ease the pain, at least," the witch replied, placing a hand on Leliana's thigh. Serena looked around for the older mage, and saw her healing a group of Kuno's men of various wounds. Watching Morrigan heal Leliana, she was reminded of how when times were tough, it didn't matter whether the witch liked you or not, she did what needed to be done.

"You're bleeding, love." Alistair put a hand on her shoulder, his eyes worried. "Do we have any poultices left? I don't want to... drain them." He nodded his head to the two nearby mages.

"In my pack," Morrigan said, her concentration still on Leliana. "I made more the other night."

Serena nodded, feeling tears sting her eyes as she moved across the camp to fetch the bandages and potions. The clearing was a scene of absolute carnage. Bits of darkspawn bodies, several dead Blighted owls, and fresh blood, a mixture of human red and darkspawn black, covered the ground. As she retrieved the poultices and returned, Leliana was flexing her leg, a grimace on her face.

"Well, that was unnerving..." the bard muttered, touching the pink pluckered scar where minutes before her bone had been popping through the delicate skin.

Handing the poultices to Alistair, Serena stood still as he applied one of them to her bleeding arm, wrapping it tightly with a thick white bandage.

"I'm surprised you didn't lose an arm, running out here with no armor on," Alistair murmured. "You have to remember to look after yourself, too, Serena. You're no good to any of us dead."

"I know, I just... I can't shake the feeling that... that it _saw_ us." Serena looked up into his eyes and saw her own anxiety reflected there, although Alistair tried hard to hide it. "Can it send scouts...? D-do you think this happened because of us? Because we're here? They can sense us, too, can't they?"

"Yes. They can sense us, but I don't think... oh, Serena..." Alistair paused his explanation to wipe a tear from Serena's cheek with his thumb. "This is _not _because of us."

"Isn't it, though? What if they..." She lowered voice. "What if they come b-back? I promised Leliana I would protect her and she... she nearly died, Alistair!" Serena bowed her head, the tears were squeezing out, slipping down her face against her will. "I feel like we're endangering everyone just _being_ here!"

"Serena. _Stop_." Alistair placed a firm hand on her shoulder, his face no longer anxious, but simply concerned. Concerned for _her_. "You cannot think like this." He glanced around, perhaps to make sure no one had heard her. "Go back to the tent, I'll take care of this. You're... exhausted, I can see it in your eyes."

"No, I can..." Serena wiped at her face miserably. "Sten said..."

"I'll take care of it," Alistair repeated, leading her forcibly to their tent. The wounded man had already left, having rejoined Kuno's men near Wynne, waiting to have his injuries healed by the mages. She saw quickly that Leliana and Zevran had joined the knot of people, helping the wounded with health poultices.

"Sleep," he commanded, pointing to the bedroll. Seeing Serena's stricken face, Alistair softened. "Or try, at least. We'll be back on the road early." He kneeled, tucking a loose lock of hair behind Serena's ear. "I'll be back soon, love. Just rest. _Please_."

Serena nodded, turning away from him as she laid back into the bedroll. She felt him push the tent flap back... Could hear his voice as he spoke to their companions, commanding them in much the same way he had her. He was so strong now... so much stronger than her. Serena pressed her face into the pillow, taking in his scent, hoping it could calm the unease that squirmed through her insides.

As her eyes closed, she could feel weariness push her to sleep. In her dreams, the song of the archdemon beckoned to her.

* * *

><p>Serena could feel Sten's eyes on her.<p>

Ever since the morning, when she had hastily broken down their tents, moving about the camp in a daze, her mind on the archdemon... Alistair had mentioned it to her, telling her under his breath to ignore the qunari. Serena could tell Sten wanted to say something to her, but hours had passed, and they were now moving up the path to the small village beyond that Wynne had marked on their map as Haven.

"Interesting strategy. Tell me, do you intend to continue going north until it becomes south and attack the archdemon from the rear?" Sten's voice was the same slow, dispassionate timbre it always was, but this time, something in Serena just snapped.

Whirling on him, Serena's eyes were practically shooting sparks as she stared up into the qunari's face. She could feel Alistair freeze next to her, the rest of their companions watching cautiously, waiting to see what she would say.

"No, Sten, I was thinking we'd climb to the top of this mountain, sit in a circle, do a bit of chanting, maybe freeze some of our smaller bits off, and then call it a day. Is that alright with you?"

The enormous man simply continued to stare at her with his piercing red eyes, his mouth set in a firm scowl. "You jest, but the archdemon is our goal and we are heading away from it to find the charred remnants of a dead woman. I will not simply follow in your shadow as you run from battle."

"_Run from battle?_ Is that what you think I'm doing here? Out for an afternoon stroll, maybe?" Serena jabbed a finger in the chest of the huge qunari and she heard Wynne gasp. "We're here to get the Ashes for Arl Eamon. With Highever gone, he has the most men to spare. You know, for the army we need to battle that big old archdemon you keep going on about."

"We do not need that dying man's help," Sten replied.

"No? We were twenty strong last night and still nearly had our deaths handed to us!" Serena shouted back. Her companions were now standing back in a loose circle, whispering intensely to one another while Serena and the qunari stared daggers at each other.

"That was a surprise attack," Sten growled. "An army marching on the archdemon would not be surprised so easily. Assuming we ever get around to battling this Blight."

"What army? You mean... the... what, seven of us? Sorry, _eight_, because you know, I have a _dog_... Oh yes, we'll just march our silly selves right down to the south, and maybe you can stare disdainfully at the archedemon until it just decides to roll over and die, eh? How's that? Seem like a solid enough plan?" Serena narrowed her eyes at the huge man, her fury coming to a finer point than her silverite daggers. "I'm cold, we're all tired, and _this isn't up for debate_. I'm the leader, Sten, and we're doing this."

"Not anymore. I'm taking command."

Serena arched an eyebrow, a harsh laugh escaping her lips. "Ha, _no_. You _really_ aren't."

"Defend yourself, Warden. We will settle this with swords."

"Oh, ho! Alright." Serena pulled her daggers. "You know, if we put this to a vote, I'm absolutely positive you would lose. As it stands, I'm _still_ absolutely positive you will lose." Serena flipped the dagger absently in her hand, the blade gleaming in the bright sun. "Think about it, Sten. You don't want look like an fool, losing to a girl half your size."

"I will not lose," Sten grumbled, pulling his enormous sword. He swung it wide and Serena crossed her daggers to parry it, pushing the sword back with all her strength. Serena heard Alistair shouting to the others to stay back. _Good_, Serena thought. She didn't want anyone getting in the middle of this.

Slicing his sword through the air, Serena dodged again, putting out a dagger to block it from connecting. The power behind it sent a shock through her arm but she ignored it. Sten definitely had the advantage of sheer muscle, but Serena knew she was faster. Flipping backwards, Serena kicked her foot out to connect with his elbow as he moved to heave the blade once again. She heard Sten grunt as she rolled and his sword came down in the dirt beside her.

Serena rolled again up onto her heels behind Sten and slammed her dagger into his shoulder. The qunari roared in pain, and she kicked her boot to the back of his leg. Growling, he swung his sword uselessly as he fell to one knee. Pulling her other dagger around to his neck, which was now within her reach, Serena pressed it to his throat.

"Do you yield?"

"Yes. I was mistaken," Sten said in reply. "You are... basalit-an. What now?"

"Get back in line," Serena said icily, releasing him. "_Asit tal-eb_, Sten. We don't have time for this."

"Yes, Warden."

Serena wiped the qunari's blood from her daggers and sheathed them. "Wynne, if you could heal him, the rest of us are going to enter the village."

"Of course, Serena," Wynne said, her blue healing magic already pulsing in her hand. With one last furious glare at Sten, Serena turned on her heel and led the rest of the party away with a nod of her head.

"I do not wish to be healed by your magic," Sten said quietly. "This is a wound I earned. It is a scar I shall endure."

"Well, let me heal the muscle, and you can keep the scar," Wynne replied, equally quiet, her blue eyes flipping from the qunari to Serena's retreating back. "May I ask you a question, Sten?"

There was a long pause before the qunari man answered. "Yes."

"You did that on purpose, did you not? You knew she would react the way she did, and still you challenged her leadership anyway." Wynne's cooling magic enveloped Sten's wound and she heard him sigh, although just barely. The large man was impossibly quiet.

"I heard her last night, speaking with the other Grey Warden... she was crying over the injuries of the red haired one and those other men." Sten pulled himself up, his fingers examining the scar Wynne left. "Sorrow is a useless emotion. It does nothing but pull one down into themselves. She is stronger than that. She needed to show us all that she is stronger than her fear. Anger is more productive than sorrow, and now she can lead us properly, with full confidence of her abilities."

"So, you aren't really concerned about the direction we're moving in?"

"No, I fully understand the Warden's reasons for coming to this village." Sten sheathed his enormous great sword at his back. "The taunt was more of a means to an end than an actual criticism."

"I see. Perhaps I misjudged you, Sten."

"It has been known to happen," the qunari replied steadily. "Come. I saw them enter through the town gate, up that way."


	52. Chapter 52

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone reviewing and following! I can't tell you all how exciting it is for me to see so many people enjoying the story.

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><p><span>Chapter 52<span> - _The Revered Father_

Haven looked the same as any typical village. Rows of rickety wooden houses with stone foundations lined the main road, with a few other larger buildings scattered about. Unlike other _typical_ villages however, enormous statues of Andraste, baring the Sword of Mercy, stood in front of many of the buildings..

"Oi! You lot! Where you think you're going, eh?"

Serena turned at the sound of the shout, facing the cross village guard. She hoped her face didn't still carry the annoyance she'd felt after her run-in with Sten.

"What are you doing in Haven?" The guard continued. "There is nothing for you lowlanders here!"

"Ah, so this _is_ Haven," Serena murmured. "Excellent."

"What do you want?" the guard sneered back, his eyes flipping between the group of them scattered about the main road.

"We... ah..." Serena glanced around, smiling nervously. "We have a friend here, in fact. My cousin. So, we're just... visiting." She gazed into the man's eyes, brightening her smile. "Surely she mentioned our coming?"

"Hardly." The man scoffed, eyeing Serena. "We do not appreciate lowlanders looking about our home as though it were some sort of zoo."

"Of course! I would be rightly offended myself. I wonder, my cousin said the village is quite old..." Serena continued speaking as if the guard believed them, keeping up the lie. "It took me forever to get up here, it's not on any maps really."

"Haven has always been here," the guard said, puffing out his chest with pride. "Tucked between the Frostback Mountains, protected from the heathens in the south. My family knows no other home."

"And who is in charge of the village?" Serena asked, ignoring the slight on southern peoples. "I'm from the capital, myself, and I tell you, they don't keep Denerim looking _half _as nice as Haven."

"Denerim! It's no surprise those heretics can't lift a broom..." The guard rolled his eyes, relaxing his stance. "Father Eirik is _our_ spiritual leader and guide. You could find him in the Chantry, presently. He is giving a sermon. The whole village turns out for it, usually."

Leliana's voice was quiet behind Serena. "Revered _Father_? I have never heard of this."

Apparently it was not quiet enough, as the guard looked at her sharply. "It has always been thus in Haven. We... do not question tradition. Our ways are not the ways of the... lowland cities." He said the term with infinite disgust.

"And rightly so, I say!" Serena exclaimed, hoping to cover over Leliana's misstep. "This village is absolutely beautiful. These snow-capped peaks are so... peaceful. Lovely, really. And this town... it has such... charming people." She grinned at the guard, and was pleased to see he smiled right back, his cheeks reddening slightly.

"You may trade for supplies at the shop, if you wish," the guard said happily, pointing to a large building near the end of a row of wooden houses. "Or otherwise join the Father and others in the Chantry."

"I think we might just do that, ser," Serena cooed, running a hand along the man's breastplate. "Thank you so much for all your help."

"It was... it was my p-pleasure, dear lady," the guard stuttered, flushing. "If you need anything else, you just... you let me know?"

"I most surely will, ser." Motioning to the others, she headed into the village proper. Glancing back, she noticed Sten and Wynne were making their way up the path and she nodded to them.

"Were you _flirting_ with that man?" Alistair asked suddenly from her side. He still had his hand on his sword hilt as if he wanted to show the guard what was what, and Serena had to bite her lip to stifle a giggle.

"We needed to get into the village without arousing too much suspicion." She grinned, an eyebrow arching up sardonically. "Besides, he means_ nothing_ to me, sweetheart, I swear."

That elicited a laugh out of Alistair. "You're ridiculous." Matching her pace, Alistair reached over, grabbing her hand lightly. "That was a bit... scary, back there."

"Sten, you mean?"

"No, that _other_ time you took on an eight foot tall man carrying a great sword in the snow. _Yes, I mean Sten_." Alistair rolled his eyes. "What was it you said to him?"

"_Asit tal-eb_?" At his nod, Serena continued. "It's a qunari saying that means 'The way things are meant to be.' It's... one of their guiding principles. I read it in that book... It's this belief that things are the way they are because they can be no other way."

Alistair nodded, releasing her hand. "And do you know what he said back to you? That basalit-whatever stuff?"

"No idea," Serena said with a shrug. "It's probably qunari for 'you're a skinny bitch' or something."

"Ha, I _hope_ they have a phrase in qunari for that. I know the dwarves probably do."

"Have you met many dwarves?" Serena asked. As they moved steadily down the row of houses, a few of the villagers came out onto their porches, gawking openly at their group. This town _really_ didn't get visitors, apparently. "I saw one or two in the Grey Warden camp, back at Ostagar."

"Oh yes. Well, I've only met those two, really," Alistair replied, his eyes watching the villagers as they passed. "Duncan had meant to go to Orzammar again, but I guess there wasn't time." Alistair looked off into the distance then, and Serena could tell he was thinking of the late Warden-Commander. "I suppose we'll be heading there next, right?"

"To fulfill the last treaty, yes. I'm sort of excited, actually." Serena grinned. "Can you imagine? An entire city underground..."

"Most of Thedas used to be connected underground by the Deep Roads," Leliana added, coming to walk beside them. "Until the darkspawn overwhelmed their cities... now only Orzammar and Kal-Sharok are left." The redhead glanced at Alistair's sword. "I wonder how that will react underground?"

"Like a big blue lantern, I imagine," Alistair replied with a grin. Duncan's sword now rested at his hip in a sheath he created specifically for it. Serena had yet to see him wield it, seemingly he preferred his father's sword instead. She supposed he kept Duncan's sword close for much the same reason she kept his dagger in her right boot. The memory of the Warden-Commander reminded them both of his sacrifice... for them, for Ferelden.

"Why do you suppose they keep staring at us?" Leliana asked suddenly. Her blue eyes were watching the villagers warily. "It's starting to become... disconcerting."

"It is my fault, my dear," Zevran piped up, grinning broadly at the bard. "Handsome elven assassins surely do not come this way so often... how can they not stare?"

"Despite that, my thought is these people have something to hide," Morrigan drawled slowly, her staff already out. "You said you found one of the knights from that fish village dead in the Chantry man's house?"

"Oh, yes, very dead. Dismembered, in fact. Then just left on the ground." Zevran shook his head. "If one is to murder, the least one can do is clean up after themselves. Blood _stains_. Don't people know this?"

"I like that dagger," a new voice said. Serena turned and faced a small dark haired boy, his eyes wide and focused on Duncan's dagger that shined brightly in the pocket of her boot. "I wonder if the Father will let me keep it."

Serena stepped back from the boy. She could feel Alistair's steadying hand at her back. "Excuse me?"

"We don't get many visitors," the boy replied. "Especially ones with fancy weapons." Beside Serena, Peanut sniffed at the strange little boy, whining quietly. "But they all end up the same when they threaten Her. When you're dead, I bet he'd let me have it."

"Her? Who is she?" Was that some sort of a threat? Serena wondered. Or was this boy sending a warning?

"Our Risen Lady Andraste, of course." The child peered into Serena's eyes and she shuddered at the boy's intensity. "Do you believe?"

Serena glanced sidelong at Leliana, who nodded encouragingly. "Yes."

"Prove it," said the boy.

"…_It's gates forever shut_... _Heaven has been filled with silence, I knew then, and cross'd my heart with shame_." Serena arched an eyebrow at the young man. "You're not getting my dagger, by the way."

"We'll see," the boy replied, shrugging slight shoulders as he walked away.

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><p>Haven's Chantry lied atop a steep hill beyond another row of houses. They moved towards it quietly; Serena could tell Leliana was still struggling with the fact that the town claimed to be led by a Revered Father. Even outside the large wooden structure, they could hear the sound of many voices, all chorusing the Chant of Light, and above that, the booming voice of a man.<p>

"So, do we just barge in, or what?" Alistair asked, his hand on Maric's sword hilt.

Serena glanced around the clearing at the top of the hill. "We should probably see if there's other entrances. We don't want to get trapped in there... Zevran, could you?" The elf nodded, heading towards the back and Serena turned to Morrigan. "I'd like you to stay out here, in whichever form you think is best. If we run into trouble, I'll call to you."

The witch nodded, her body already elongating into the agile form of a black wolf. Serena nodded to her mabari next. "You stay with her," she commanded firmly. Peanut let out a happy bark and bounced off to the side of the Chantry, following Morrigan.

Serena shot once last look to her remaining companions before she pulled open the door to Haven's Chantry.

"...We are blessed beyond measure; we are chosen by the Holy and Beloved to be Her guardians." The older man at the front of the Chantry had on the robes of a mage, baring a symbol Serena didn't quite recognize. It wasn't the Circle... or the Chantry, but like a strange combination of the two. Behind him, an altar was dripping with dark, red blood.

"This sacred duty is given to us alone; rejoice, my brethren, and prepare your hearts to receive Her," the man continued. Around him, the townspeople were nodding fervently to one another.

"Lift up your voices, and despair not, for She will raise Her faithful servants to glory when Her-" The man paused, his eyes lighting on Serena and her group. As one, the parishioners turned to stare at them. Serena couldn't shake the creepy feeling this town and it's inhabitants gave her. In this moment, the feeling had intensified... tenfold.

"Ah... welcome. I heard we had a visitor or two wandering the village. I trust you've enjoyed your time in Haven so far?"

"Oh, you know, it's very scenic, what with the mountains and snow and all..." Serena's eyes flipped warily between the congregation and the bloody altar. "Until you get threatened by a small child... then there's the bloody altars and such. That tends to give people the creeps..."

Father Eirik frowned, his beard twitching angrily. He turned to his flock and raised his hands, addressing them loudly. "This, my brothers and sisters, is what happens when you let an outsider into the village. They have no respect for our privacy. She will tell others of us if we let her and her companions live! Word will spread, and then what?"

"You, stranger," Father Eirik continued, his pale eyes boring into Serena. Magic was already swirling around his staff. "You do not understand our ways. You would bring war to Haven, in your ignorance."

"Keep up the bloody sacrifices and war will be the _last_ thing you'll need to worry about, _Father_," Serena spat. "Where's Brother Genitivi?"

"Of course you come for him! You outsiders are all alike!" Eirik cried. "We don't owe you any explanations for our actions! We have a sacred duty; failure to protect _Her _would be a greater sin. All will be forgiven!" He turned to the people of Haven. "Seize them!"

The Chantry filled with the sound of shouting as Serena felt rough hands grab her as the villagers moved to do as Eirik bid. Stomping down on the insole of a man's foot, she twisted hard, flinging one of her captors away into a wall. Able to reach one of her weapons now, she pulled one of her silverite blades from her belt and sliced off the other hand holding her back.

The villager screamed, clutching at his ruined stump of an arm as Serena kicked out, knocking the man to the floor. Around the floor, her companions were being captured as more people from the town surged into the Chantry, weapons bared. The villagers outnumbered them three-to-one, and before she knew it, Serena was calling out with her mind, searching for the presence of the two missing companions she touch with her senses.

_Morrigan! Peanut! We need you! They have us surrounded!_

With a howl, the wolf burst through a window, crashing into one of the villagers holding Wynne down. The older mage scrambled away, reaching for her staff as she pressed a cone of cold into a man's face, freezing him solid. There was the sound of splintered wood, and suddenly Serena's mabari was vaulting over the bloody altar, his liquid brown eyes focused on the Revered Father, who was shouting and flinging spells. Zevran followed closely behind, jumping the altar, his long daggers out as he made his way to the townspeople holding the women down.

The room was a confused mess with the new combatants entering the fray. Morrigan let out another howl, stunning a few of the nearby villagers. Serena heard Eirik's screech as Peanut ripped across his robes, the man trapped underneath her hounds' massive bulk.

Kicking out, Serena knocked another villager to the ground, freeing Leliana from a group of men as Sten bellowed, swinging his sword in a wide arc and catching it in another trio of mad townspeople. "Nehraa Beresaad!" he called, slamming his shoulder into one of the burly men holding Alistair down. With the two men free, they pounded through the room, releasing their obvious frustration on the last of the townspeople.

"I didn't want to have to do this," Serena whispered, surveying the Chantry. The bodies of the hostile villagers were scattered around the floor, their blood soaking into the wooden floors and plush carpets.

"It feels wrong, doesn't it?" Leliana murmured. Serena always forgot how quietly the bard could move. She turned and the redhead was there, having materialized almost like magic. "We... perhaps shouldn't have killed these people within the Chantry."

Alistair sheathed his sword, peering at the body of the Revered Father that Serena's mabari had taken down. "Couldn't have been helped. They already defiled this place anyway," he added, nodding his head towards the blood-drenched altar.

Peanut was pawing at the Revered Father, Eirik, his nose pushing at the front of his robes. Alistair reached down and pulled out a medallion from his pocket, the symbol of Andraste's flame reflected brightly on the bronze surface.

Beside him, Zevran was examining a wall, his fingers running over the surface of it hesitantly. "Serena? I think our insular little village friends are hiding something. This wall is..." He pressed on one of the bricks in the wall and it opened up like a doorway. "Intriguing."

Serena poked her head into the little room, glancing around in the low light. "Hello? Is… is there any... err, any crazed villagers in here?"

A loud groan was the only response and Serena beckoned to Wynne, who already had her staff glowing brightly. "I heard someone, I think-"

There was another groan and a man's voice called out weakly to them. "Who... are you? They... they've sent you to... finish it then?"

"Finish it? Maker, no!" Serena leaned down to the prone man. "We're here to help! Are you... Brother Genitivi?" At the door, Alistair lit a lantern and the room blossomed with light.

"Yes... I..." The man moaned again, clutching his side. "You don't know how glad I am... to see someone who isn't from this village..." Wynne leaned down and Serena could see the blue glow of her healing magic soak into the man's form and he sighed. "The leg's not going to be doing so well for awhile, I imagine... and I can't feel my foot, but... that is infinitely better. Thank you, good woman."

Brother Genitivi sat up, Serena putting a hand out to help him to his feet carefully. "He'll need a lot of rest in order to heal," Wynne instructed, her magic pushing into his leg. "But that should do for now."

"I'm afraid I don't have time to rest now," Brother Genitivi replied, shaking out his rumbled clothing. "I'm so close. The Urn is just up that mountain."

"The Urn of Sacred Ashes? It's _here_?" Serena exchanged surprised glances with Wynne over Genitivi's head. "Could we get to it today?"

"Haven lies in the shadow of the mountain that holds the Urn," the scholar rasped, coughing slightly. Serena wondered how long he'd been kept in this anteroom. Judging from his scrawny appearance, and the growth on his face... it had been days, at least. "There is an old temple there, built to protect it. The door is always locked, but I know... Eirik wears a medallion. It opens the door."

"This medallion?" Alistair said, holding up the necklace he'd pocketed from the dead man.

"Yes! That's the key!" Genitivi reached for the medallion, eyeing it closely. "Yes, this is it. See here? It has Andraste's Holy Flame etched upon it. Oh, we are so close, I can _feel_ it." He turned to Serena, his dark eyes wide and imploring. "Please, could you take me to the mountainside? I will show you."

"Yes, of course," Serena said, helping the limping man back to the door. "Are you sure you can make it? Your leg..."

"Any pain is worth it, I assure you. I have spent so many years researching the Urn, young lady, learning everything I could..." Genitivi sighed as Alistair came to his other side to assist them. "And now, I'm here, _it's_ here. This is Fate- I know it. What kind of historian would I be if I did not at least try to seek it out now?"

"Ah, the kind that stays in libraries?" Alistair supplied. "That doesn't get beaten to a pulp by dragon cultists?"

"So you know," Genitivi said gravely, nodding. "They call themselves the Disciples of Andraste... they must be here to protect the Urn, but they speak of Andraste as though... as though she were still... _alive_."

"Surely that isn't possible, though?" Serena asked. "I mean, if it's Her Ashes…?"

The scholar made a noise somewhere between a laugh and cough. "I'm old enough to know that anything is possible, child."


	53. Chapter 53

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone taking the time to comment! Originally, this chapter was two, but I figured why have two short chapters when I could unleash one enormous chapter on you all? Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 53<span> - _The Ruined Temple of Andraste_

Good to his word, Brother Genitivi led Serena and the rest of her companions up another hill to the mountainside. Nearing it, she saw the tunnel carved into the great peak's side. Inside, it was etched with low-relief sculptures of Andraste; starting from her rise as a lowly slave in Ferelden to savior and Bride of the Maker, and finally her betrayal.

Serena found herself entranced by the carvings; the life of Andraste had always inspired her... that a woman, _one_ woman, could affect so many... That she could encourage so many people to stand up for themselves, to join her in rebellion...

"Andraste led them; the barbarians, the Alamarri, against the might of the Imperium in what was to become the first Exalted March." Leliana's voice was quiet beside Serena, her hand going to the relief sculpture, lightly touching the praying figure of Andraste.

"Sometimes I think perhaps our mission... to build an army, to defeat the Blight... it is what the Maker wills, as She led the Her people to take back their freedom, it is our duty to lead them now... to take back their land."

"I can only pray we have half Her courage when the time comes," Serena replied, smiling sadly. They turned away from the engravings, heading up the stone steps to where the Chantry scholar was pointing something out to Alistair.

"This is it, yes," Genitivi said, coming to stand at the enormous door. "Give me the medallion, and let's see if I remember." Alistair silently handed him the large metal sphere, and watched as the man set it into a depressed section of the door. "Yes... you see, it can be manipulated, just like this..."

There was a loud thump, and a series of clicks could be heard as the door unlocked itself. Slowly the doors swung open and Alistair felt Serena at his side, her eyes wide, her hand reaching for his. He gripped it tightly, their gloved fingers intertwining, and took in the vast chamber that laid before them.

Genitivi stepped in first, his face looking nothing short of awed. "What I would give to have seen this hall in all its splendor, as it was _meant_ to be... Still, sweep away the ice and the snow, and traces of beauty remain."

"I can't believe all this is still standing," Leliana murmured to Zevran. "This temple must be thousands of years old."

More carvings covered the walls inside the temple, and Serena watched as Genitivi drifted towards them, still limping heavily. "These carvings were created just after Andraste's death, and they may reveal things about Her life that we do not yet know... I think I need more time to study these statues and carvings..." He turned back to Serena and the others. "I could not keep up with you with my injuries, anyway. I shall stay here, if you don't mind too terribly much."

"I..." Serena glanced around at her companions, her eyes landing on Peanut. "My hound will stay with you, Genitivi. He's a better soldier than I am, certainly, so he should be able to keep you safe." Serena kneeled at Peanut's side, scratching his ears fondly. "You never liked going to chapel much anyway, did you, boy?"

The hound let out a low whine, putting his cold nose to Serena for a moment before he backed up and went to Genitivi's side. "Good boy," Serena said to him. "Guard. I would also suggest closing that door, in case more villagers show up, looking for some sport."

"Of course," Genitivit replied. He put out a hand to Serena, and she took it, shaking it gently. "Go, my lady. I will be all right. Perhaps my destiny was only to lead _you_ to the Urn."

"To which I thank you. A nobleman's life may yet depend on our success."

"Just be careful, that's all I ask." Brother Genitivi peered around, shaking his head. "The temple is... perilous."

"And I thought we'd already hit our quota for death and destruction today," Alistair joked. "Silly me."

* * *

><p>The temple, rather unfortunately, had been reclaimed in many areas by the cultists. Unsure of where to go, Serena split them into two groups, heading in opposite directions to scout out the main chamber. Serena's group, which included Sten, Morrigan, and Leliana, moved down the western series of hallways, eventually finding what appeared to be a large library, with more cultists.<p>

Thankfully, they were unarmed, although they didn't stop them from trying to attack with angry fists. Sten dispatched the trio of them rapidly, his sword moving like liquid lightning. Afterwards, he turned to the shelves, glancing at the piles of books the cultists had been reading.

"Oh, so the southern peoples do read. I thought that was a myth."

"You know, Sten, you really find the strangest times to make jokes," Serena remarked.

"Who said I was joking?"

"Not to break up this throughly academic conversation," Morrigan drawled sarcastically. "But I believe I found something rather important." She jingled a large brass key ring in her hand. "'Tis fortunate these villagers leave things simply lying about."

"Maybe we're just lucky?" Leliana suggested.

"Lovely how all our luck seems to be used up on finding old keys and armor, and never on... say... avoiding darkspawn or broken limbs..." Serena rolled her eyes. "Let's find the others. And perhaps whatever these keys unlock."

Upon returning to the main chamber, they found Alistair and the others waiting for them, a few books and scrolls in hand.

"We found these," Alistair said, handing a few to Serena. "There's bits about the Old Gods, the first Blight... I thought they might be useful, maybe." She held them lightly, the binding was ripped in a few places. Taking a cloth from her pack, she wrapped the books carefully and placed them in her pack.

"I still haven't had the chance to go through Dun- through the Warden things we found," Serena added. "I guess we'll have a bit of light reading to do over the next few days, hmm? Assuming we survive this, of course."

Alistair smiled crookedly. "Which knowing us, isn't likely."

Serena clapped a hand on his back, leading the group up a long staircase. "That's my boy, always so optimistic."

"I do my best, love," the blonde replied.

* * *

><p>Serena's arm was on fire.<p>

Well, her glove and gauntlet, technically, were on fire, but the distinction was clearly lost on her as she ran about the room shrieking and waving her arms. Morrigan bit back a laugh as she pushed out with her hand and mind, a cone of icy cold was quickly enveloping Serena's flailing arm, extinguishing the flames.

"'Twas only a _bit_ of fire, Serena," Morrigan called.

"But it _was_ fire! My arm is... was... it was on fire!" The brunette ripped off her gauntlet, inspecting the skin there carefully with wide eyes. Of course, the templar was beside her immediately, and Morrigan couldn't help her eyes from rolling. The two Wardens were nigh inseparable these days, and while Morrigan could not figure out what Serena saw in the fool, she let it slide without comment.

Saddling up to the two, Morrigan glanced at Serena's wrist. "Your skin, I trust, is fine?"

"Yes, barely," Serena mumbled, her normally pale cheeks flaming red. "I thought Leliana said those were ash wraiths, though."

"'Tis true," Morrigan replied.

"Then why in the Maker's name did they set my bloody arm on fire?"

Morrigan sighed, trying her best to be patient. It was not a skill that came easily to her. "Supposedly, they are shades, a type of spirit from the Fade, that choose to form their bodies out of ashes. I know not why they choose fire, but 'tis my guess that since fire creates ash, perhaps 'tis all the shade is able to control."

Serena nodded, her eyes still on her arm as she reluctantly pulled the leather gauntlet back on, rubbing at the charred bits. She was still grumbling as she led the way into the next room, where a series of statues stared down plaintively at them.

"This is Maferath, husband of Andraste and her betrayer." Zevran glanced up at the huge figure before turning to see Leliana's astonished face. "What? I went to the chantry as a child."

Morrigan rolled her eyes as the red haired bard pointed to another figure. "They say that Archon Hessarian heard the voice of the Maker as Andraste was burning, and this is why he chose to end Her suffering. That is why the sword is a symbol of Mercy."

"More religious figures? Are we to be taught the entire history of Andraste, now?" The dark haired witch huffed.

"This is Her temple, afterall," Alistair muttered, passing by her. "Did you really think you'd be able to get through it without learning _anything_?"

"To learn_ this_ drivel implies 'tis knowledge worth knowing," Morrigan snapped back. "'Tis not."

"Believe whatever you want," Serena said quietly, "but do it silently, please. I'll not have you blaspheme in my presence, Morrigan. To some of us, this means a great deal." She pulled out the brass key ring and went to work on the door, although Morrigan was positive Serena could feel the glare she shot her through her armor. Beside Serena, Alistair grinned, obviously relishing the witch's momentary shame.

Beyond the door, the temple abruptly ended, devolving into a series of tunnels, much like the ones they'd used to enter the mountainside. There, they battled more deranged cultists, hell-bent on protecting the ashes of their dead prophet.

_Supposed prophet_, Morrigan corrected herself silently. Though after Serena's whispered admonishment, she had kept her word, not speaking any of her thoughts aloud of their... _religion_... again.

Unlike the temple, the caverns were infested with very small dragons, which Flemeth had told her were referred to as dragonlings. Barely rising above her waist, Morrigan found the beasts almost endearing, until one snapped at her with poisonous jaws.

Knocking it back with a crack from her staff, Morrigan sent the tiny dragon flying backwards with a blast of fire from her hand.

"Pity you chose to try to bite, fiend," she called to the flaming corpse. She turned to Serena, shrugging. "I could see myself keeping these as pets."

Serena laughed, wiping blood from her daggers. "And to think I thought I was special having a war-hound."

Further along in the underground chambers, they discovered an area where larger dragons were kept, these ones as long as the qunari was tall, and infinitely more vicious. These were drakes, Flemeth would have told her, the mating males kept for a high dragon. Nearby, bunks were stacked in a corner opposite the cages, the occupants of which ran at them, swinging staffs and swords alike. It would appear as if these cultists were raising the dragons... breeding them, in fact.

"For Andraste!" one shouted as Morrigan twisted out of his grip, putting her hand to his face. There was the sizzling sound of something baking and then the man was screaming in pain and terror, clutching his face in his hands.

"Your prophet shall not help you now," Morrigan sneered as the man took a few steps, still screeching about his ruined face. Stumbling about until he reached a group of his fellows, he clutched at one woman helplessly as he promptly exploded into bits. Around him, the cultists were screaming, the man's insides covering them from head to toe.

"I would back away, were I you, Serena..." the witch called. The companions glanced at one another before moving away from the cultists, who had begun to scream and quake in much the same way as the first man.

"What did you do?" Serena cried as one of the villagers dropped to their knees, the man's body shaking wildly as Morrigan's spell worked its way into his skin.

"'Tis a spell my mother taught me, in case I was ever... overwhelmed." The witch's golden eyes flicked to the group again, and there was a burst of red as the cluster of villagers blasted apart before them.

"Sweet Maker! They've all... exploded!"

Morrigan smirked at Serena's astonished face. "Flemeth called the spell 'Walking Bomb'."

* * *

><p>"I believe we are headed up, towards the surface of the mountains." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Morrigan turned, flinging out a hand to stop the oncoming drake. The fiend froze solid as Sten moved forward, his great sword slamming into the side of the creature, cracking it to bits.<p>

Frowning at being caught off-guard, Morrigan stomped angrily as she engaged the next dragon, this one a bit larger than the previous, calling her magic to her as she pressed a fireball into it's mouth, which it deftly blocked, coming at her again.

Some sort of surprise must have registered on her face as she fought the beast, for Alistair moved towards her then, pivoting on his heel to engage the dragon himself. His sword sliced clean through the neck of the thing, the dragon's head falling onto the floor with a thick-sounding plop.

Wiping his sword clean of its blood, the warrior flashed her another grin. It was the sly, triumphant smile of someone who just won a point in an imaginary argument, one Morrigan found she did not like at all.

"Have a care where your eyes linger, Alistair."

The blonde arched an eyebrow at her, his grin widening. "Ha, yes, well... don't worry. It's not what you think."

"What then?" the dark haired witch snapped, her patience spent.

"Oh, nothing," Alistair replied, still grinning like a fool. "I was just thinking how when you scrunch your face like that, your nose... well, nevermind."

"And _what?_ What is it about my nose that captivates you so?"

"I was just thinking that it looks exactly... like how your mother's did. Especially when you frown."

Morrigan heard Serena snort, but wisely the girl kept walking, not acknowledging the conversation openly but for a quick glance in the fool templar's direction. Oh, so they found this_ funny_ did they? Two could play this game.

Keeping pace beside the tall blonde, Morrigan raised her voice slightly, so their leader would be able to hear her clearly. "I do wonder, Alistair, is it permissible for two Grey Wardens to... oh, what is the word I search for?"

"Caboodle?"

"_Fraternize_," Morrigan clarified, her own eyebrow arching up.

"Oh ho, _this_ should be good." Alistair laughed, his honey eyes flipping quickly to Serena and back. "Tell me, Morrigan... What's wrong with fraternizing?"

"It seems most... undisciplined. For an organization that claims it will do _whatever_ is necessary to end the darkspawn threat..." Morrigan could see Serena had gone stiff in front of them, her head turned slightly. So she _was_ listening, the witch thought maliciously. _Good_. The witch grinned inwardly, still burning from their brunette leader's earlier rebuke.

"One thing has nothing to do with the other," Alistair said tensely, running a hand through his hair.

"Oh no?" Morrigan spun her staff in her hand, enjoying the templars sudden unease. "And what if a Grey Warden was forced to _choose_... between the Warden he_ loved_ and ending the Blight? What should his choice be?"

"That is a... a _ridiculous_ question," Alistair stammered. He glanced again at Serena's back, his eyes dark.

"And _I_ have my answer. Most kind of you." With a flick of her wrist, the witch sauntered off, a satisfied smile on her lips.

* * *

><p>"If there is anyone in charge of these cultists, we have not met them yet." Zevran's voice was unusually quiet, and it made Serena pause, her eyes flicking over to where the assassin stood leaning against the cavern's wall.<p>

"What makes you say that?" Serena asked.

The caves were vast, much more complex than Serena had anticipated. They were taking turns crawling through a particularly tight split in the rock, as Morrigan had already gone through in her wolf form, scouting ahead to make sure they were going the right way. Alistair and Wynne stood on the other side, waiting for the rest of them.

"The ones we have come across so far, and even those tending the... eggs... they are mindless, almost. Pawns to be used and thrown away." Zevran held out a hand, indicating Leliana should go ahead of him. He paused, watching the bard's backside appreciatively as she scrambled through the crevasse. "Believe me, my dear, when I say I know a thing or two about being used."

Serena arched an eyebrow at the assassin, smirking. "And with your charms, here I thought _you_ would be the one doing all the using."

"Usually, this is true," Zevran agreed, smiling faintly. "I am speaking of my time with the Crows, however. Whoever is leading these cultists... he is a puppet master of some charm, at least."

Serena nodded, her eyes clouded with thought. "You don't really consider yourself one anymore, do you? A Crow?"

"I am not sure, honestly. My life has taken quite the dramatic turn in the past few weeks, no?" The blonde shrugged, moving away from the wall and coming to stand beside Serena as Sten pushed his way through the opening now. "I do not think I ever properly thanked you, either, for sparing my life," he said in a low voice.

"You didn't have to," Serena replied.

"May I ask why you did so? It wasn't my dashing good looks, was it?"

"No, I... well... I like to think the Maker gave me a second chance, that night in the castle. I should have died there, with the rest of my family. I _deserved_ to die there. But I didn't." Serena glanced quickly at the elf's face before looking away and shrugging. "Besides, maybe I like having people owe me blood debts."

"That must be it, then," the assassin said with another small, almost knowing smile. With a flourish of his hand, he waved Serena on. "After you, my dear."

Beyond the tight fissure, it appeared as if more twisting passageways greeted them. Everyone was beginning to look restless by the time Morrigan returned to them. Changing back into her human form in mid-stride, Serena found herself staring openly as the dark patches of fur became flesh and fabric once again. Despite the many times Serena had seen the dark haired witch change into various forms, it didn't seem to matter, the magic always astounded her.

"Just ahead, I believe," Morrigan was saying. "We are nearly to the surface, there is but one more large chamber." Shooting a quick look at Serena, she grinned. "No dragons, just men."

"You seem disappointed," Serena teased.

The witch shrugged. "The dragons have jewelry sometimes. The men... do not."

"She has a point," Leliana conceded, grinning. Serena rolled her eyes at the two women, leading the group into the chamber Morrigan had indicated. Stalactites tapered down from the ceiling like fat spearheads, ready to skewer them all.

"Halt, intruders."

A bearded man stepped out of the shadows of the cavern, a great sword sliding from the sheath at his back. Two fellows, equally clad in heavy plate mail armor, were flanking him on either side. A few shadows lingered in corners of chamber and Serena found herself counting in her head. Seven? No. Eight of them.

The older man peered at the group of them, his dark eyes narrowed as he took in the blood splattered across Serena's leathers. "I am Father Kolgrim, leader and guide to the Disciples of Andraste. Tell me why you have come here, covered in the blood of the faithful." He pointed a finger at Serena, his voice quiet and deadly. "Kill us, and you will face Andraste. She will smell our blood and the blood of her children on you, and Her wrath will be great."

"Oh, wonderful. _More_ crazy," Serena murmured. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she put a hand on her daggers, as if trying to pull some sort of restraint from the blades themselves. "What in the realm are you talking about?"

"Andraste is... wait. Are you talking about the dragons?" Leliana's voice was tinged with disgust. "Is your Andraste a dragon?"

"She is so much _more_ than that!" Kolgrim cried. "She is even more glorious than all the Old Gods combined!"

"Right, so, _you're_ a lunatic," Alistair scoffed, a hand running through his blonde hair and coming to rest on his sword hilt.

"The prophet Andraste has overcome death itself and has returned to Her faithful in a form more radiant than you can imagine!" Kolgrim raised his arms, as if the cave itself was going to shed some of his glorious dragon light on him right then. "Not even the Tevinter Imperium could hope to slay Her now. What hope do _you_ have?"

Beside Serena, Sten's voice was barely a whisper. "Tell me we can kill him now."

"Not yet," Serena murmured. Raising her voice, she turned back to the cultist leader. "If Andraste is a dragon now..." She resisted the urge to push more sarcasm into her tone. "...What happened to the Ashes?"

"They are still within the temple, but why do we need _ashes_ when we serve the risen Andraste in all Her glory? What are they but the remains of a mortal woman?"

"Then I suppose you won't mind if we take them off your hands." Serena eyed the man warily. It had been such a long day already, and this man's crazy blasphemy was really starting to grade on her.

"So you are after the Ashes then? Perhaps there is a way for you to make up for your desecration of our home and temple." Kolgrim exchanged a look with one of his fellows and Serena felt a twist of unease settle in her stomach. "Perhaps through Andraste's mercy, Her greatest enemy will become her greatest champion."

"I highly doubt that," Serena muttered, her hand still on her dagger. Louder, she spoke to the man. "Just say whatever it is you have to say."

"The Ashes you seek reside atop this mountain, watched by an immortal guardian," one of Kolgrim's henchmen replied. "A guardian who refuses to accept the truth of the rise Lady!"

"Now the Ashes prevent holy Andraste from fully realizing Her new form," Kolgrim added. "They are a remnant of Her past incarnation, and She cannot move on as long as they exist. The guardian blocks us from the Ashes themselves, but you! _You_ could do this!" The man fumbled in his pockets, pulling out a small vial. "Pour this in the Ashes and-"

"No! He wants us to defile the Ashes!" Leliana grabbed Serena's arm, whispering fervently. "These people are... are heretics!"

Serena shook Leliana off and took the vial from the now-smiling Father Kolgrim. She could hear Leliana's whimper of outrage behind her as she eyed the contents. Blood, it looked like.

"Serena, tell me you aren't thinking of doing this." Alistair's voice was fierce at her back, his hand clutching her arm tightly.

"I knew _you_ would see reason, young lady-" Kolgrim began.

"Oops!" With a savage grin, Serena hurled the vial of blood as hard as she could at the man's feet. The blood splattered across the rocks and his shoes, looking dark and sludgy. She saw the shadow of rage cross the man's face as he raised his sword.

"_They shall cry out to their false gods, And find silence,_" Leliana intoned beside her, her bow already nocked with an arrow.

Serena pulled her daggers, and heard the sounds of metal leaving its sheaths around her. "I would see you _dead_ before I would destroy Her legacy."

"Ignorant girl!" Kolgrim spat. "You are _all_ fools, and you shall die like fools! Andraste revealed Herself to us alone! To arms, my brethren! May She grant us victory!" With a bellow, he ran at Serena.

* * *

><p>The battle was over quickly.<p>

"Perhaps their risen Andraste was taking a nap?" Zevran suggested, rifling through the belongings of the fallen combatants. "She did not appear to grant them any special prowess in battle, anyway." He pulled out a large blow horn on a thick leather strap. "This is... hmm. I do not know what this is, actually."

"It has the symbol of the Chantry on it," Leliana said, kneeling down beside the assassin. "Well, it's been... scratched... and… it is upside down?" She shook her head sadly. "These people..."

"Foolish man's lucky I don't defile _his_ bloody ashes..." Serena cursed, kicking at the cult leader's body. "Let's just get going. He said the Ashes were at the top of the mountain." Picking up her pack, she headed for the back of cavern, where light was spilling in.

Despite the cold, the sunlight was a welcome relief after spending what felt like hours in the darkened tunnels and temple ruins.

"There!" Alistair pointed beyond the crumbling bridge they were on to a great door, where two enormous statues of Andraste stood on either side. "That must be it, right?"

"It has to be-" Serena began excitedly, nearly skipping across the bridge in glee. Not even ten paces across did they all stop, a vast shadow was flying above, covering the bridge, moving steadily closer. Serena felt her jaw drop open as she stared up into the sky.

It was a dragon. Massive. Deadly. And it was heading right... for... them.

* * *

><p>Hustling from the bridge, they quickly found cover concealed behind a group of fallen pillars. Serena felt edgy, filled with tension at the sight of the huge scaly beast. The dragon had circled the mountaintop, streaming fire from its mouth and burning the snow from the ground before it landed on a ledge overlooking the area right between them and the door to the temple.<p>

"That is a High Dragon? It is... much bigger than I had thought." Zevran was alternating between looking at the great beast and checking his pack for bombs. "We're not planning on... actually fighting it, are we? Couldn't we just... sneak around it?"

"How do you suppose we sneak seven people past... _that_?" Serena murmured. She was peeking over the side of the pillar, her eyes stubbornly refusing to leave the dragon's form. Its eyes gazed down from above, ever watchful from its perch. There was no way that thing would just let them waltz by.

"Carefully?" the assassin suggested. "Quietly? We could cover ourselves in snow and pretend to be... rocks. Rocks that walk." He glanced at Sten. "_Big_ rocks."

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard," Sten said. "And you have said many stupid things, elf."

Zevran grinned. "Perhaps our dear Qunari friend should stay here then if he doesn't wish to be a rock? He is a bit conspicuous after all, what with his vicious death glares and pointed remarks."

"I'm not leaving anyone behind with that... thing," Serena replied. "Although I'm certain you're scary enough to keep it at bay, Sten." The qunari simply grunted in response, his eyes rolling at the both of them.

Leliana was rubbing a powder on the tips of her arrows, her blue eyes intense. "Even if we got in the door in one piece, who is to say we could get out again without facing it?" When she finished with hers, she reached into the quiver on Serena's back, pulling out her arrows. "They should freeze on contact, if I mixed the powder correctly."

"And if you didn't?" the blonde assassin prompted.

"Then they may explode," Leliana replied, rubbing the powder onto Serena's arrows anyway.

"If that's the dragon those cultists think is Andraste... I don't think I can just leave it here." Serena turned, sliding down the pillar to sit beside Alistair on the ground. "Kolgrim could be just the beginning. Surely one of those nutters would make it up here and restart the whole damn thing again."

"'Twould seem we are planning on attacking a high dragon because of... religious reasons," Morrigan drawled, her eyebrows knitting together.

"No, that's just a bonus, really," Serena said, replacing the arrows carefully in her quiver. "It also happens to be in the way of the Ashes." She glanced up at the witch, smirking. "Imagine the kind of jewelry that thing has."

Morrigan rolled her golden eyes. "Oh yes, Serena. I'm sure it has some lovely pearls dangling from its twenty-foot-long neck."

"I'm pretty sure trying to sneak past it will end up getting us caught by it, anyway." Serena glanced around at the group, silently willing them to argue with her logic. "I don't want anyone getting eaten. Better to simply engage it on our own terms, no?"

"I agree with the Warden," Sten said unexpectedly. His red eyes turned to glare at the dragon. "I doubt it even knows we are here, currently. There are seven of us. We could overpower it."

Alistair glanced over the pillar at the dragon, his face drawn into tense lines. "We've come this far. That Kolgrim fellow said the Ashes are in that temple." He shrugged. "It would be a waste to go back now. We may be the Arl's only chance."

Wynne pulled a vial of lyrium from her belt pouch and knocked it back, a grimace crossing her face. "Well, I'm not afraid of it." At the other's surprised looks, Wynne laughed, poking a finger at her arm. "It wouldn't eat me anyhow. I'm old. Tough and stringy." She nodded to Alistair. "You, on the other hand... you ought to be worried."

Ignoring their banter, Serena reached out with her mind, touching the dragon with her senses as delicately as she could manage. Its thoughts were clearer than other animals she had connected with, more coherent, almost like when Serena spoke with her mabari. Realizing they had the advantage, she pulled one of the arrows from her quiver and nocked it into her bow.

"What are you doing?" Alistair asked. His honey eyes were frozen on her arrow, his hand on Maric's sword.

"I want her down here." Serena glanced at the others. "Sten is right. We could overpower her, but not from that ledge. We get her down here, and it's all over."

"Maker, I hope you know what you're doing."

Serena pulled back her bow as far as it would go, aiming the arrow at the high dragon. "Me, too."

* * *

><p>Easily forty feet long and taller than the statues of Andraste that lined the temple's doors, the high dragon was thousands of pounds of pure muscle, and it was <em>angry<em>.

"She really reminds me of a noble woman I used to know!" Zevran called, rolling one of his bombs under the belly of the creature. It exploded with a great rush of energy and the dragon screamed, expelling a stream of fire straight up into the air. The assassin raced from the dragon's side, rolling out of the way of the fire. "Hmm. She did _that_, too, oddly enough."

Serena had split from Leliana, each shooting arrows from opposite sides, attempting to confuse the dragon. Small pockets of freezing ice covered the dragon's hide, hindering its movements just enough that Alistair and Sten were able to move in and stab it.

Sten's great sword dug deep into the beast's side as he jumped high and stabbed, dragging the sword down with him. Blood gushed from the substantial wound and the dragon roared its displeasure, kicking one of its legs out to push the qunari away. It missed, and Sten took the opportunity to slice into the dragon's foot with his sword as more blood splattered across his front.

Wynne stood inside the ruins, casting healing spells as the dragon stomped about in pain, knocking everyone near it to the ground. Serena felt the cool wave of magic rush over her as she tried to steady herself, her various cuts healing themselves. Serena silently thanked the Maker for creating mages with the power to heal.

"We need to stun it!" Serena shouted, prepping another arrow. "Aim for its eyes!"

Suddenly Morrigan was beside her, a ball of lightning building in her hands. "The base of the skull is the quickest! Use a blade!" the witch called. The lightning flew from her hands and slammed into the face of the dragon as it roared in rage, its head swaying back and forth, dazed for the moment.

There was another bellow of fury, and Serena saw Alistair slam his shield into the dragon's front leg, knocking the creature's feet out from under it. The ground shook again as the high dragon hit the dirt, knocking everyone about. Leliana shrieked while Zevran pulled her back, the dragon was letting out a blast of sparks and smoke from its mouth.

Tossing her bow aside, Serena sprinted for the neck of the dragon at full speed. Alistair was already there, his shield crashing into the dragon's neck, paralyzing it for a moment. Seeing Serena, he stuck his sword in the beast and grabbed her hand, pushing her up onto the dragon's neck.

"Do it!" he yelled.

Grabbing her daggers, she shoved them deep into the neck of the dragon as it jerked beneath her in annoyance. The blades barely made a dent in the dragon's hide, it was so thick. Cursing, she held on tightly as the creature tried to lift its head again, desperate to shake her off. There was a great rush of air and Serena realized the dragon was trying to get up, to fly away, and with her on its back!

"Serena!" Alistair was below, shouting, Duncan's sword now in his hand as the dragon pushed off from the ground, Serena clinging frantically to one of its huge twisting horns. Alistair looked like he wanted to fling the sword at the dragon in an effort to keep it on the ground.

"Oh, Maker-" She felt the dragon twitch again as it tried to fly with it's damaged wing. Grasping about, Serena yanked one of the daggers the dragon's head, as the beast shook and tossed her about, Serena's lower body felt like it was flapping like a banner in the wind.

The dragon twisted in outrage as another bolt of lightning hit it, and Serena's foot slid, catching on Maric's blade. Serena screamed as the blade cut into her leg and the dragon continued flailing about, wings flapping hard enough to keep the other's away. With another scream, Serena reached out, pulling the dwarven sword from the dragon's neck as she heard a crack in her chest, her leg shooting pain from the sword cut.

"Maker have mercy," she whispered and she dug the sword deep into the dragon's skull, using every ounce of energy she had left. There was a great roar and then the dragon was falling, taking her with it. Holding on to its horn and Maric's sword for dear life, Serena felt her entire body burn with exhaustion as the creature hit the ground hard, rumbling the earth around them.

Hands were on her then; pulling her from the dragon, lifting her down gently. Her body felt like one big bruise, her leg was bleeding profusely, and she was positive at least a few of her ribs were broken, making it near impossible to catch her breath.

There were voices around her, murmuring quietly about her injuries, about the dragon, about the temple. "What now?" they asked. Should they set camp? Rest? Keep moving? Could someone carry her? Should they lift her with that injury to her leg...

But Serena's eyes were already closing; her energy was gone, drained completely from that last bout with the high dragon. She felt the chilly touch of Wynne's healing magic and then nothing at all as she passed out in Alistair's arms.


	54. Chapter 54

**Author's Note**: Another mega chapter, whoo! I had some fun with The Gauntlet, because the game is entirely too focused on the Warden, and the Gauntlet just isn't very fun. (Why even bother asking the companions questions if they don't _really_ matter?) Anyhoo, thanks all for taking the time to comment! You make my day.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 54<span> - _The Gauntlet_

Alistair was still holding her when she awoke an hour later. They had bandaged Serena's leg where his father's sword had dug into her thigh, Wynne healing the muscle as best she could. The cut was then stitched, black thread crisscrossing its way up her thigh as she laid passed out across his lap. It would scar too, most likely, due to the runes the sword carried against the darkspawn taint. He found himself almost relieved that she hadn't been awake for it.

"How long was I out?" Serena asked quietly, her blue eyes were red-rimmed from exhaustion. Alistair wished he could tuck her into his arm and let her sleep as long as she needed.

"An hour or so. Not long." He pressed his lips to her forehead gently. "I'm sorry about the sword."

"It ended up working out," Serena whispered. "My daggers weren't going deep enough." She fingered the bandages tentatively, her skin nearly as pale as the cloth. "Is everyone else okay?"

"Yes. Between Morrigan and Wynne we were able to patch up Sten and Leliana." At her confused look, Alistair explained. "The dragon knocked them back with those air attacks, while you were... up there... and the fall re-broke Leliana's leg. She's fine now, though," he added quickly. "Can you stand?"

"I think so. I feel... sore, but that's beginning to feel like an everyday occurrence." Serena stood up with his help and Alistair followed as she limped over to the carcass of the high dragon, inspecting it carefully. With a quick wrenching motion, she pulled one of the dragon's teeth from it's mouth and held it up, rolling the sharp white tooth between her fingers.

"I think I might make a necklace of this," Serena murmured, pocketing the tooth.

"Morrigan found its' nest, by the way." Alistair pulled his pack around, leaning close to Serena. The inside of his knapsack shined brightly with coins and jewelry. "Bloody thing had enough gold and gems to buy all the ships in Amaranthine."

Serena grinned at him. "Guess we won't need to double up on rooms at the inn anymore, eh?"

"With this much loot, I don't think we'll ever have trouble finding a place to stay," Alistair replied, placing an arm around her shoulders.

"And here I thought you liked camping in the middle of nowhere with me," Serena pouted.

"Oh, I like the _you_ part, and the _middle of nowhere_ part..." Alistair pressed another kiss to her temple, leading them back where the others were gathered together, checking supplies and resting.

"Alright folks," Serena turned to the group, her tone somewhere between tired and teasing. "Now that I've had my afternoon nap, I think it's about time we gathered those Ashes and got out of here."

* * *

><p>It was five of them that stood inside Andraste's temple when the spirit appeared. Sten and Morrigan had elected to remain outside, the witch insisting on collecting the scales of the dragon for "use in potions" but Alistair surmised it was really because she was tired of dealing with the religious overtones that surrounded their quest for the Ashes. Sten's reason, as usual, was anyone's guess.<p>

The spirit, which had to be the guardian that the cultist had mentioned, stood at the end of the hall, glowing faintly. He wore full plate armor of a make that Alistair had never seen outside history books, with a great sword strapped to his back.

"I bid you welcome, pilgrims," the spirit called. His voice echoed strangely in the hall, as if it were coming from somewhere far away. "I sense you have come to honor Andraste, and you shall, if you prove yourself worthy. However, it is not my place to decide your worthiness. The Gauntlet does that."

"Oh, that sounds pleasant," Alistair murmured. Serena exchanged quick glances with him, and he could see her blue eyes were worried as she glanced down at her bandaged leg anxiously. Hopefully the majority of the Gauntlet wouldn't be of a physical nature.

"If you are found worthy, you will see the Urn and be allowed to take a small pinch of the Ashes for yourself. If not..." The Guardian let his words hang in the air for a moment, his piercing eyes never leaving them.

Beside him, Serena took a deep breath. "Very well. We shall enter the Gauntlet."

The Guardian nodded to them, but did not move out of the way of the door. "Before you go, there is something I must ask each of you. I see that the path that led you here was not easy. There is... suffering in your past- your suffering, and the suffering of others."

"You abandoned your father and mother, leaving them in the hands of Rendon Howe, knowing he would show no mercy." The spirit gazed upon Serena, his dark eyes filled with pity. "Do you think you failed your parents?"

"I... no. No, I don't think I failed them." Serena ran a hand across her face, and Alistair noticed there were tears in her eyes. "They wanted me to live, to live for them, and Fergus... and for myself. I... I have done my best to honor that." She swallowed hard, her arms crossing as if she were cold. "I have tried, anyway."

"Then you do not dwell on past mistakes- neither yours, nor someone else's." The Guardian nodded, seemingly to himself. "And what those who follow you?" The spirits dark eyes turned, and Alistair felt a shiver run down his spine as they landed on him.

"Alistair, knight and Warden... you wonder if things would have been different if you were with Duncan on the battlefield... You wonder if you could have shielded him from the killing blow. You wonder, do you not, if you should have died, and not him?"

"Y-yes." Alistair felt Serena's eyes on him, felt all their eyes on him and he peered at his boots. "If Duncan had been saved, and not me... maybe everything would be better. If I'd just had the chance, he could..." Serena grabbed his hand then, squeezing it gently, and he looked up at her. "We're trying our best, but what if it's not enough?"

"Our best is all we have to give, love," Serena whispered softly. "The rest is up to faith."

"Ask your question, Guardian," Wynne said suddenly, interrupting them. "I am ready."

The spirit nodded slowly, his form glowing softly in the darkened hall. "You are ever the advisor, ready with a word of wisdom. Do you wonder if you spout only platitudes, burned into your mind in the distant past? Perhaps you are only a tool used to spread the word of the Circle, and the Chantry... Does doubt ever chip away at your truths?"

"You frame the statement in the form of a question," the older mage began, and Alistair found himself marveling at her unflinching manner in the face of a very powerful ghost. "Yet you already know our answers. There is no sense in hiding, is there?" Wynne sighed, her sharp eyes staring fiercely back at the spectral Guardian. "Yes, I do doubt at times. Only the fool is completely certain of himself."

The spirit nodded in acknowledgement of Wynne's answer before turning next to Zevran. "Many have died at your hand. But is there any you regret more than a woman by the name of-"

"How do you know about that?" Zevran snapped. His voice wasn't angry. If anything, he simply sounded surprised. Shocked, even. Alistair saw Leliana put a hand on his, staying him without words. What was _this_ about?

The Guardian shrugged armored shoulders, unimpressed by the proceedings. "I know much: it is allowed to me. The question stands, however. Do you regret-"

"_Yes_. The answer is yes, if that's what you wish to know. I feel regret every day of my life." The elven assassin glanced at the others, his amber eyes anxious. "Now move on, if you please."

"And you, Leliana... why do you say the Maker speaks to you, when all know that the Maker has left? He spoke only to Andraste." Unlike with the others, the spirits voice had now taken on a sharp tone, and worse yet, Leliana seemed to notice it, too. She released Zevran's hand. "Do you believe yourself Her equal?"

The red haired bard's jaw dropped, as if this were the last thing she was expecting the spirit to ask. "I... I never said that! I-"

"In Orlais, you were _someone_." The Guardian's eyes narrowed at Leliana, his disapproval plain to see. "In Lothering, you feared you would lose yourself, become a drab sister, and disappear. When your brothers and sisters of the cloister criticized you for what you professed, you were hurt, but you also reveled in it. It made you special. You enjoyed the attention, even if it was negative."

Alistair exchanged quick looks with Serena and he saw his own doubt reflected there. His memory of their conversation in that Denerim tavern bubbled to the surface of his mind unexpectedly.

"_What about Leliana? Do you really believe in her vision? I've heard her talk about it a few times. It's a bit... well... out there_."

"_Sometimes I think... Even if the Maker has left us, like the Chantry says, I can't help but think He throws us a bone, every so often. I do wish she'd open up a bit more, though. Whenever I talk to her, I always think she's holding back something. Like she's embarrassed or... ashamed? I don't know._"

He shook himself slightly, refocusing on the scene before him.

"You're saying I made it up, for... for the attention?" Leliana's voice was hurt, the sting of the spirits words evident on her face. "I... I did not! I _know_ what I believe!" The bard shook her shoulders out, glaring hard at the spirit.

"The way is open," the Guardian said in way of a proper reply. He gazed at Leliana, a meaningful look in his ghostly eyes before he stood aside for them. "Good luck, and may you find what you seek."

With one last look at the unearthly protector, they passed through the next door, and into the Gauntlet.

* * *

><p>The next room was filled with more apparitions. Alistair and the others stared around in open-mouthed shock before Leliana had the good sense to walk up to one of the ghosts, a red haired woman, by the looks of it, and say hello.<p>

The spirit smiled at Leliana, but did not greet her back."The smallest lark could carry it, while a strong man might not. Of what do I speak?"

"The smallest lark... strong man..." The bard glanced up at the ceiling briefly before returning her gaze to the ghost. "Do you speak of... a tune?"

"Yes," the spirit replied, her ghostly smile growing. "I was Andraste's dearest friend in childhood, and always we would sing. She celebrated the beauty of life, and all who heard Her would be filled with joy. They say the Maker Himself was moved by Andraste's song, and then... She sang no more of simple things."

"Oh, boy, we have to answer riddles now?" Alistair murmured to Serena.

"Looks like it." Serena counted quickly. "Only seven more to go." She marched up to the next ghost, and before she could even open her mouth, the spirit spoke.

"Echoes from a shadow realm, whisper of things yet to come. Thought's strange sister dwells at night, is swept away by dawning light." The ghostly older woman had severe looking eyes and Alistair found himself looking instead at his boots as he listened to her words. "Of what do I speak?"

"Shadow realm?" Serena looked to Leliana, but it was Wynne who spoke up.

"You speak of dreams," the older mage called out.

"A dream came upon me, as my daughter slumbered beneath my heart. It told of her life, and of her betrayal and death." The spirit's eyes glowed hauntingly as it reached out and touched Serena's cheek sadly. "I am sorrow, and regret. I am a mother weeping bitter tears for a daughter she could not save."

"Broma," Leliana said solemnly. "The mother of Andraste. She was Ferelden, you know."

Alistair eyed the next ghost, another red haired woman, this one with sharp features, and wandered over to her. "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. The debt of blood must be paid in full! Of what do I speak?"

For a second, Alistair panicked; he hadn't meant to activate the riddle, she had just... just started speaking to him. "I... uh..." he stuttered awkwardly.

"Vengeance," Serena answered firmly, putting a steady hand on his back. "You speak of vengeance." Alistair glanced at her face and saw that her eyes had gone dark with an emotion he had seen days ago, back in Ostagar.

"_Yes_..." the spirit hissed, her smiling knowing and fierce, as if she and Serena shared some secret bond. "My husband, Hessarian, would have chosen a quick death for Andraste. I made him swear that She would die _publicly_, with Her warleaders, that _all_ would know the Imperium's strength!" The spirit beat on her chest with a fist. "I am _justice_! I am _vengeance_! Blood can only be repaid in blood!" With a final savage grin, the spirit vanished.

"Well, she was a friendly sort," Zevran said sarcastically. Leliana pushed him gently on the arm and he grabbed her hand, grinning roguishly.

"I didn't mean to-" Alistair began, looking sideways at Serena.

"It's all right. They just sort of... start talking, it would seem." She grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently, and led him to the next ghost, a bald elven man, clad in armor. Whatever he had seen in her face was gone now as she smiled faintly.

"I'm neither a guest, nor a trespasser be; in this place I belong, that belongs also to me. Of what do I speak?"

Alistair gazed at the spirit for a moment, his eyes drifting to Serena. Staring at her just then, he knew the answer.

"Home."

"Indeed," the ghost replied, smiling sadly at the pair. "It was my dream for the People to have a home of their own, where we could have no masters but ourselves. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and in this... we followed Andraste against the Imperium." The elf's eyes glowed dark, and he dropped his head. "But she was betrayed... and so were we."

"That is... I believe that is Shartan..." Zevran's voice was quiet at he stepped up to the elven leader. It held a reverence that the joking assassin never carried. "Leader of the Dalish. Our savior."

"Yes," the ghost replied, nodding. "Use your freedom wisely, my brother." With another sad smile, the spirit vanished into a puff of smoke, just like the others.

"I did not think..." He trailed off and the companions glanced at Zevran as he stared at the spot where the other elf had stood. The blonde shook himself, a tight smile stretching across his features. "I am ready when you are, Warden." Serena nodded at him solemnly, running a hand across his shoulder briefly as she passed on to the next spirit.

"The bones of the world stretch towards the sky's embrace." The ghost covered its face with its hands, striking a dramatic pose. If it hadn't been so bizarre, Alistair would have laughed. The spirit peeked through his fingers and continued. "Veiled in white, like a bride greeting her groom. Of what do I speak?"

"The mountains," Wynne replied, her mouth pursed as if she too was trying not to snicker.

"Yes," the spirit said, bringing his hands down again. "I carried Andraste's Ashes out of Tevinter into the mountains to the east, where She could gaze ever into Her Maker's sky... No more fitting a tomb than this could we find." With a rush of air, the ghost disappeared.

"I'm glad you took that one, Wynne," Serena said. "I was going to guess clouds."

"Clouds?" Alistair snorted. "Really?"

"I don't know. Or sheep?" Serena pushed at the templar, her face scrunched up in distaste. "Shut up! I was distracted by his hand gestures."

"We can't all be Ser Quickwits McSmartypants, young man," said Wynne disapprovingly, her hand on her hip. "Or shall we be led to believe you alone have the monopoly on cleverness?"

"Ha! To hear Morrigan tell it, I would think our fair Alistair only has a monopoly on hair gel, perhaps." Zevran raised an eyebrow at the other blonde, grinning broadly.

"Does she honestly expect this... amazingness to simply style itself?" Alistair countered, putting a hand to his head mockingly. "We can't all set our hair with sticks and mud."

"That is Maferath," Leliana interrupted, grabbing Serena's arm. "He is next." The group sobered significantly as they stepped up the ghost of Andraste's earthly husband, and betrayer.

"A poison of the soul, passion's cruel counterpart; from love she grows, till love lies slain." The spirits voice was cracked with feeling, his shoulders slumped in regret and shame. "Of what do I speak?"

Leliana stepped forward, her eyes staring through the spirit's helm and into the spectral orbs before her. "You speak only of jealousy, spirit."

"Yes... jealousy drove me to betrayal," Maferath replied, his beard twitching in disgust. "I was the greatest general of the Alamarri, but beside Her, I was... nothing. Hundreds fell before Her on bended knee. They loved Her, as did the Maker." The spirit dropped his head, staring sadly at his boots.

"I loved Her too, but what man can compare with a God?" The ghostly general shook his head, his body disappearing into a mist.

"I almost feel bad for him," Serena said softly. "I suppose he's never been able to make his peace with Her... or the Maker."

"I can't imagine what it would be like to be trapped here, forever, with such regret." Leliana sighed, and reached for Serena again, grasping her hand as they moved together to the next ghost. They were virtual sisters in their shared faith just then, and Alistair almost felt envious of their absolute conviction. He had never felt so sure of _anything_... except his love for Serena.

"No man has seen it, but all men know it. Lighter than air, sharper than any sword!" The spirit's face was bright and energetic, a sharp contrast to the gloomy other ghosts of the hall. "Comes from nothing, but will fell the strongest armies! Of what do I speak?"

Serena looked to Leliana, her face blank. The bard looked similiarly confused, and it was Zevran's voice that called out to the answer the spirit.

"Hunger."

"Yes!" the spirit replied enthusiastically. "Hunger was the weapon used against the wicked men of the Tevinter Imperium!" He lifted a ghostly fist triumphantly, his exuberance spilling over. "The Maker kindled the sun's flame, scorching the land. Their crops failed, and their armies could not march. Then He opened the heavens and bade the waters flow, and washed away their filth!"

"I am Cathaire," the ghost said proudly. "Disciple of Andraste and commander of Her armies! I saw these things done, and knew the Maker smiled on us." With a flourish, the spirit disappeared.

"Well, he sure was excited." Zevran rolled his eyes, striding over to the last ghost.

"I can't even imagine how amazing it must be... to see the Maker's presence, to feel Him guide your hand..." Serena smiled at the assassin. "To have such reassurance that you're on the right path must be nice." She turned at the sound of the final ghost speaking, the phantom image of the Tevinter Magister, Archon Hessarian, was standing before them.

"She wields the broken sword, and separates true kings from tyrants. Of what do I speak?"

"Mercy?" Serena ventured tentatively. Of course Serena would know this one, Alistair thought.

"Yes. I could not bear the sight of Andraste's suffering, and mercy bade me end Her life." The ghost gazed upon on them all, his features ashen. "I am the penitent sinner, who shows compassion as he hopes compassion will be shown to him." The spirit nodded solemnly to them before vanishing.

"Wasn't there just a door here?" Alistair asked, staring at the open passageway behind them. "I could have sworn..."

"I am not surprised in the least," Wynne replied. "This place is practically infused with magic." Striding purposefully through the door and into the small room, she suddenly paused, coming face-to-face with another apparition. "I... _oh_. Oh, dear."

"Wynne? Are you-" Serena stepped towards the older woman, looking between her and this new ghost.

"Hello, Wynne." The handsome ghost had a kind face as he smiled down at the older mage. "It has been awhile, hasn't it?"

"That's not a riddle, is it?" Alistair whispered to Serena. "Are we still answering riddles?" He could tell she was just as confused as he was, for she simply turned wide eyes on him and shrugged.

"Indeed it has, Myles," Wynne said quietly. "I'm afraid I don't know what to say."

"He fairs well, in case you wondered," the spirit continued, ignoring her statement. "Orlais has been good to him, it would seem."

"I... did not know he was in Orlais." The older mage gazed upon the ghost, her face looking terribly sad. "Is he a mage as well?"

The spirit nodded, his smile too was tinged with sadness. "He is. A talented one, from what I can tell. His power grows every day, as does his control." The ghostly man folded his hands across his robes, and Alistair realized that this man was a mage. "You would be proud."

Perhaps he was a former friend from the Circle? But then who was the Orlesian mage they spoke of? Alistair shook his head, refocusing on the spirit's words. "So, tell me Wynne, how are you?"

"Well enough. But I am sure you are not here to exchange pleasantries with me, Myles. May I ask what it is you require? Is this another test?"

"Try not to think of these things as tests, Wynne. Your faith, as I well know, is unshakable." The spirit moved forward, touching Wynne's face fondly. Alistair saw her lean into it briefly, allowing herself the simple act of comfort. "I simply came to tell you not to worry. All things come to light in time."

"I... don't know what that is supposed to mean," Wynne whispered.

"You will, love, you will."

With one last sad smile, the ghost vanished, and behind it, another door opened.

"Is everything okay, Wynne?" Leliana asked, her voice tiny.

"Of course, child." Wynne looked around, noticed their faces and pursed her lips. "That was... Myles. He died five years ago." The older mage stared at the wall, and for the first time in the months he'd known her, Alistair saw her look uncertain.

"We had a relationship, which is forbidden in the Circle, of course," Wynne continued after a pause. "It... produced a son, which by law, belongs to the Chantry, immediately. He was taken from me. I'm unsure of Myles' purpose here, perhaps it was simply to..." She shrugged small shoulders. "I don't know why Myles was here," she finished lamely.

In response, Leliana and Serena moved, wrapping the older woman in a tight embrace between them. They stood for a long moment like that, all three women together, comforting each other without words.

Wynne was smiling above the red and brown blobs of hair, and a few tears had slipped down her wrinkles cheeks. "Thank you, dears. You warm an old woman's bones with your compassion."

Alistair glanced around quickly, overwhelmed slightly by all the fuzzy feelings in the room. That was when he noticed one of their number was missing.

"Zevran?"

* * *

><p>They found the assassin in the room beyond, the ghostly image of a beautiful elven woman standing before him. Her throat appeared cut, and pale silvery blood fell down her front, although she appeared not to notice or care as the woman only had eyes for Zevran.<p>

They were speaking rapidly in Antivan, and Alistair found himself eyeing Serena, silently seeking interpretation. In reply, she shook her head tightly and squeezed his hand.

Their conversation finished, the elven ghost leaned forward and kissed Zevran lightly on the forehead before disappearing. Beyond, the next door swung open.

"If we are ready, I would like to move on," the tattooed elf said thickly. He glanced quickly at Serena and something passed between the two then for Serena clapped the blonde assassin in a quick hug and whispered.

"_Though stung with a hundred arrows,  
><em>_Though suffering from ailments both great and small,  
><em>_His Heart was strong, and he moved on_."

Zevran whispered something back in Antivan, and Serena smiled, ruffling his hair playfully.

"Ah, not the hair, my dear. Never the hair." Straightening his shoulders, Zevran grinned at the rest of them, although it was merely a shadow of it's normal brilliance. "Shall we then?"

The next room was for Leliana. A tall, willowy ghost stood there, looking elegant despite her dowdy clothing, and smiled warmly at the bard. With a choked sob, Leliana stumbled forward and embraced the ghost, her eyes streaming tears.

"Mama..."

"My sweetheart, it has been too long since I have gazed upon you this closely," the spirit said, her arms wrapping Leliana's own slender form. "You have done so much. I am forever proud of the lady you have become."

"I miss you so much," Leliana cried, unable to let go of the ghost.

"I know my darling, but know that I am in a good place, and one day you will join us." The ghost squeezed Leliana tightly before letting go. "I must go, but be strong, Leliana! Tough times lie ahead..." The spirit reached out, touching the bard's cheek one last time before vanishing in a puff of smoke.

Leliana dropped her head, her hands wiping at her eyes and it was Wynne who went to comfort her, whispering quiet things in the redhead's ear. Leliana nodded, seeming to steel herself with the mage's words and gave them a watery smile before heading for the open door.

Serena glanced at Alistair then and he saw a flash of fear cross her face. The next room would hold someone from one of _their_ pasts, and who it would be, neither knew. Alistair gripped her hand tightly, and they moved into the next room together.

* * *

><p>Alistair had only seen him a few times in his entire life, if one didn't count the image that graced many of Ferelden's coins. He gulped, feeling Serena's hand become even tighter against his as they stepped before the ghostly image of King Maric.<p>

"Alistair." The old king's features were strong and proud, and even Alistair could not deny the resemblance between them. He had not seen it when he was younger, Alistair had only been growing into his features then, anyway. But here... They were the same height, almost to the inch, and he could see he had Maric's same wild blonde hair, although a shade darker, and kept quite short in comparison. The same high cheekbones, wide laughing mouth... Indeed, only his nose was his own, and perhaps that was from his mother's side...

He saw Serena glance between the two of them, her mouth slightly agape before she fell to one knee before the former King of Ferelden. Alistair briefly wondered if he too should kneel, but before he could make a decision, Maric was speaking again.

"My dear, _please_, stand. I deserve no such address in this form."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Serena replied, bowing her head. Her grip on Alistair's hand was like iron, and she had tears in her eyes when she looked at him next. "I apologize."

"Again, it is unnecessary, I assure you." Maric smiled, his head cocking to one side. "You have a wonderful woman at your side, my son. I pray you do not make my same mistakes."

"W-what do you mean?"

"We are very alike, you and I, despite you being raised away from Court," Maric answered. "It was your mother's wish that you not be a rival to Cailan; that you be allowed to make your own way, and relenting to her, I allowed it... though it killed me to have you away from me." The old king bowed his head, regret reading plainly in the lines of his body. "You were not meant to be forced into that. It is ironic, how Fate deals us our hands, is it not?"

"Hilarious," Alistair replied, smiling vaguely. He glanced up at the spectral image of a crown that sat atop his father's head. "I don't want to be king."

"Neither did I," Maric said softly. "I was the wild prince, my mother the Rebel Queen... never in all my days did I think I would be leading the rebels myself, that one day I would become the returned King of Ferelden. Maric the Savior..." The king sighed, and it was tinged with sadness. "But sometimes what you may want for yourself, and what duty may demand of you... they don't always sync up so well."

"How did you... how do you deal with it?"

"I think you know that already." The king glanced down at Alistair's hand, the fingers intertwined with Serena's, and smiled. "I met your mother in similar circumstances, if you can believe it." He shook his head fondly. "She is an incredible fighter. An incredible woman."

"I wish I'd known her," Alistair replied.

"I am so sorry, my son, for all the mistakes I made... I fear my failures have shaped your life." Maric's piercing blue eyes stared into Alistair's and he could almost feel the king's remorse. "Can you ever forgive me?"

Alistair nodded, letting go of Serena's hand to embrace his father's spectral form. Maric's body felt surprisingly solid beneath him, his father patting him gently on the back in a gesture any man would give his son.

Alistair's voice was barely a whisper when next he spoke. "I'd forgive you anything, Father."

"I wish you didn't have to," Maric said, smiling sadly. "It pains me to tell you, but the path forward is not easy. Fate is never kind to Her champions, it would seem. Take this. It tells you so much more than I can." He pressed a ring into Alistair's hand. "Have courage, my son, and know that I love you." With a final nod, the image of the former king disappeared into thin air.

Serena wrapped him in a hug then, both of them clinging tightly to each other, Alistair unable to say anything. He knew, somehow, she understood what he was going through in those moments he spoke to his father. He rested his head against hers, their remaining companions forgotten for now as he collected himself. He could feel the cold of the ring in his hand beckoning to him.

After a few moments, they broke apart and he nodded mutely to her, finally ready to move on.

* * *

><p>Serena was obviously not ready for the image of her own father as he stood before her. Alistair saw her eyes shine with a veil of unshed tears as she stumbled forward, her grace all but evaporated in her shock.<p>

"F-Father?"

"My dearest child... you know that I am gone, and all your prayers and wishes will not bring me back." Bryce Cousland stood tall, his brown hair flecked with gray, his noble dress looking the same as any other lord's in Ferelden. It was then Alistair noticed the silvery wound across his middle; the ghostly pale blood, so like Zevran's ghost, seeping down the man's doublet.

"I... I never..." Serena's tears spilled over as she fell forward into her father's arms, hugging him close. "I never found him, Father..."

"Please, don't cry. Your brother will find his way back to you, as you both will one day find your way to us." Bryce clasped his daughter in his ghostly arms, his face concerned. "You must set your eyes on the horizon now."

"I will, Father, I..." Serena pulled away from her father then, wiping at her eyes, and Alistair could see she was steeling herself for him. She reached into her tunic and pulled out the two pendents he knew hung there. "I know my duty."

"I know you do. You are a Cousland, through and through. But you have such a long road ahead of you, Pup, and you must be prepared." He reached around his neck and pulled off an amulet, placing it gently in his daughter's hand, the amulet becoming solid as it touched her. "I leave this in your hands... I know you will do great things, Serena. Your mother and I are so very proud of you."

There was a tense moment where Alistair could tell Serena wanted to embrace her father again, to touch him one last time, but she held herself back, bowing her head as the ghost disappeared and the final door creaked open.

"Serena?" Alistair touched her gently on the arm, unsure of what she needed. "Love? Are you alright?"

"My brother..." Serena gazed into Alistair's eyes, looking weary but hopeful. "I think... Alistair, I think he's _alive_."


	55. Chapter 55

**Author's Note:** Thanks everyone for reviewing and adding the story to your favorites and alerts! The response has been tremendous, I really can't even... ah, there's just no words. (Other than these, of course.) In other news, Alistair took Rally as an ability, obviously, and thank goodness for that! This chapter also ends our on-going saga in Haven, which is also cause for celebration, me thinks!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 55<span> - _No Greater Honor_

After months of worry, of thinking there was no way Fergus could still be alive in the Wilds, with all those darkspawn roaming about, Serena had hope. Her father... he... whatever he had been... He had said 'as you both will one day find your way to us'... _Both!_ Didn't that mean Fergus was still alive? If he were gone, wouldn't he already be with them?

Serena's head spun with the realization, the belief that she _had_ to be right, he had to be alive.

And he would find her.

"We should move on," Serena said firmly. "We've got to be close now."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Alistair asked tentatively, his hand still on her arm, prodding her gently with the questions he wasn't ready to say out loud. One of which was surely are you sure you're not losing it?

"Yes," she replied, looking him in the eye. "I won't lie to you. That was... intense. But I'm okay." Serena glanced at the others. "We're all okay. I think that was part of the... test... to get through... that."

"I never knew Andraste for a trickster," Zevran said, frowning slightly.

Alistair snorted, wrapping an arm around Serena's waist as he led her into the next room. "I suppose over-emotional outbursts help us prove our worthiness."

"I'm just glad Sten and Morrigan stayed back," Leliana said. "Can you imagine her during the riddles? Unbearable."

"She probably would have tried to set one of the ghosts on fire." Serena laughed, finding herself surprised she actually could laugh so readily. "I imagine she'd get on well with that vengeance woman, though."

"Anyone who enjoys setting people ablaze is a friend in Morrigan's book," Alistair added.

"Oof-" Serena felt a sharp burst of pain in her shoulder and she turned around, only to see a ghostly woman aiming a short bow at her, prepared to shoot again. Serena cursed, grabbed Alistair, and threw him to the floor as another ghost charged past, long daggers out. Zevran? Wait, no, he was just...

"Serena!" Alistair called, awkwardly reaching for his father's sword as he twisted beneath her. "It's _you_!"

"Yes, Serena, _do_ watch out," Leliana taunted from nearby, her ghostly pale hands holding the sword she'd had all the way back in Lothering. She swiped at the pair, a maniacal grin on her face that the real Leliana would never have. "And what about _you_, lover-boy? Will you be able to save her _this_ time?"

"Maker's breath!" Serena rolled over Alistair, her leg stinging sharply at the movement, as she pulled one of her daggers up to block the ghostly bard's sword while another arrow sailed past. Pushing her weight into the parry, she reached out with her other hand and grabbed the wrist, swinging the faux-Leliana into the path of the next arrow.

Sure enough, the spirit form of Serena shot true and the arrow landed right into the ghost's back as Alistair plunged his sword into the bard's stomach, kicking her to the ground as the apparition burst apart into dust.

"Who's next?" Alistair bellowed, pulling his shield from his back, a dangerous note to his voice. Serena saw him cast his eyes about, possibly looking for his own double, as she moved slowly to the corner to engage the false version of herself.

"Why, it's our great heroine, Ser Serena the Brave!" the false Serena jeered, her smile a cruel twist of the one Serena usually saw in the mirror. "Have you come to save the day _again_?" Her double pulled the two silverite blades from her belt, sprinting forward in an effort to knock the real Serena off balance.

It was a move Serena herself had done many times, and like many opponents, she felt herself spinning uselessly in an effort to get out of the way as the ghost barreled into her, pushing her off her feet and onto the ground with another breathy "oof!"

"It would appear you aren't that tough without your big bad templar boyfriend, are you, bitch?"

Serena felt fear clutch her heart as her double stared into her eyes, the daggers that had been a birthday gift from her father poised above her. Suddenly a furious roar sounded out, and Serena felt her panic subside as her body rallied at the sound. _Alistair._

Gathering her legs beneath her, she launched her double into the air, kicking out as hard as she could, her leg protesting the entire time as stitches burst apart. The fake Serena screamed as she fell back, landing hard on her back. Suddenly, Leliana was there, the real Leliana, her flaming red hair swishing gently as she pulled Serena to her feet clumsily. They were back-to-back, fighting against the double, Leliana using her own body as a shield for Serena's injury.

"It is only fair, is it not? Since you got rid of my twin." Leliana's voice was rough, as if she'd been choked or slammed into something hard.

"Who is left?" Serena asked, her eyes searching the blackened chamber for the others. The pain was lessening, she could feel Wynne's magic touch her from afar, and Serena murmured her thanks to the Maker for such fine friends.

"Alistair, Wynne, and... you." Leliana pulled a dagger from her boot and parried the blow coming from the fake Serena.

"Oh, ho! It's all friends together!" The double sneered at the pair. "Let's see your precious Maker guide you now!" Leliana swung her sword again to parry another blow from the spirit while it kicked out, trying to trip them up.

"I feel like I should be flattered that I'm having such trouble fighting myself," Serena joked as she barely made it over the sweeping leg of the ghost. "I didn't realize I could be such a total _bitch_, though." Dipping low, she kicked her own leg out at the ghost, knocking her to the ground as Leliana leaned into the stab her through the throat as the spirit dissolved into smoke.

"Yeesh, Leli," Serena said, glancing at the bard. "Anything you want to tell me about?"

"My apologies. You _did_ try to kill us, though."

"Mmm. Good point."

Behind them, Alistair roared again as he battled the spectral version of Wynne, blocking her staff with a push of his shield. Zevran fought the faux-templar just paces away as the real Wynne chanted nearby, a rune glowing on the ground at her feet.

"Your boy has a lot of rage today," Leliana remarked lightly, replacing her sword in the sheath at her back.

"I think he's still pissed at Morrigan." Serena leaned down to examine her leg. The bandage had bled through, and half the stitches at the top were ripped apart, Wynne magic was barely keeping the skin knit together. "Unless that isn't what you meant, of course."

"Ha, I thought it might be because you guys haven't..." The bard raised a red eyebrow mockingly.

"Pfft. You've been hanging around Zevran too much," Serena replied, pulling a new bandage from her pack. "We're not _bunnies_, you know."

"Could have fooled me!" Leliana teased. She leaned down, helping tie the new bandage on, and Serena could tell the light conversation was so she wouldn't worry about the wound. Indeed, from up close, it looked ghastly, and Serena found herself wondering how Alistair had managed watching her get stitched up.

Beyond, the man in question whipped his sword around and beheaded the fake mage in one fell swoop, whooping happily as he turned to help Zevran fight his double.

"An elf and an old woman? Is this really the best you can do? _I'm a bloody Grey Warden!_" the ghostly Alistair jeered, using his shield to protect his flank from Zevran's attack.

"Then let's see how you deal with _me_, you self-righteous git!" Alistair shouted, bashing his shield into the double's other side.

"Did he just call himself a bastard?" Leliana smirked, her eyes watching the two men team up on the apparition.

"I love it." Serena snorted, her injury forgotten for the moment as she watched the scene unfold. "That's not even the first time he's done it, Maker bless him."

"Should we help them? I feel like we should help them." Leliana looked down at Serena, who simply shrugged, unwilling to move her leg again.

Spinning on his heel, the real Alistair slammed his shield into the double again, catching it off balance. The spectral Alistair lost his footing and fell back right onto Zevran's dagger, impaling himself as the assassin slid his second weapon across the spirits neck. With a rush of air that threw them all back, the large door to the next room flew open.

* * *

><p>"<em>Another<em> room? Maker's breath..." Serena moved into the chamber, gazing at the open door beyond. Wynne had healed her leg again, clucking at the busted stitches. It had taken another 20 minutes for her to re-do them, and then re-bandage the wound. Alistair had expressly forbidden her from combat, of any kind, for the next day or so. Serena had pouted briefly before quelling under the fierce look the older mage had shot her.

"So... riddles, combat against very mean evil twins... and now we're supposed to... what? Jump across?" Alistair stared over the edge of the platform into the abyss below. "Nevermind. I definitely _don't_ want to jump."

"It says '_Andraste loved Her disciples as She loved the Maker. As we have faith in the Maker, so must we have faith in our friends_.'" Leliana stepped away from the small engraving on the floor. "I bet we'll have to work together and join hands and sing a happy song to get across!"

"Faith in our friends..." Serena muttered, walking along the edge of the platforms. "So was the last test just about kicking our inner demons in the ass?"

"Ooh, look at that!" Alistair pointed out to a ghostly platform that appeared out in the chasm. "I don't think it's solid enough to stand on, but it's a start." He walked to another floor switch and jumped on it, looking momentarily excited before his face fell when nothing happened. "Oh, boo. This one is broken."

"Perhaps it requires a certain pattern?" Wynne suggested. "Serena, stay right there..." The white haired mage wandered over to the other side, eyeing the floor switches carefully. "Alistair, move to that one when I try this one."

With a click, the first platform became concrete and a second spectral piece appeared.

"That's it! That's an actual bridge piece, right there!" Alistair turned to Serena, his face lighting up again. "If we can get all the bridge pieces to be solid, we could make it across."

"But there's only five of us," Serena replied, looking from them to the bridge.

"There are only four pieces, though, so we should be fine." Zevran strolled past her. "Wynne, where shall you like me?" The mage considered before pointing to the last switch in the row.

"Aww... nowhere closer to you, my darling Wynne?" The elf jumped onto the switch and another bridge piece became solid as the last bridge piece appeared.

"Don't push it, Zevran. And I am not your _darling_." Her eyes rolled to the ceiling before she directed Leliana to another switch.

The assassin put a hand over his face dramatically. "And so once again I am rejected, just as I am by the cruel, cruel fates..."

Serena exchanged glances with Alistair, smiling. It was good to hear a bit of the old Zevran still existed after all the emotional distress they'd had to work through to get here so far. His conversation with that elven woman, a former lover of his that he'd allowed to be killed, was particularly troublesome to overhear.

The bard jumped on another switch and the bridge made a final click as all the pieces solidified.

"Maker's breath! Andraste only favored the clever, it seemed," Alistair snorted, walking across the barrier with Serena.

"Oh, I'm sure there's a moral in here..." Zevran murmured. "Something about building bridges with friends, and such. Something poetic... oh, well."

They stepped through the corridor and heard Leliana gasp. Ten foot tall flames erupted before them, cutting them off from the staircase beyond, and the bard stumbled back, obviously alarmed.

"It would appear Andraste only favors the crispy now," said Zevran sarcastically, putting an arm around the redhead to steady her.

"That's the Urn, just up there, isn't it?" Alistair stepped back from the heat. "So... how do we do this?"

"Unity and rainbows and puppies, I'm sure," Serena muttered, moving towards the only thing in the room, a small stone altar. The altar was carved with the symbol of Andraste, and Serena ran a hand across the thick coating of dust that covered the top, revealing the words beneath.

"_Cast off the trappings of worldly life and cloak yourself in the goodness of spirit_," Serena read aloud. "_King and slave, lord and beggar; be born anew in the Maker's sight_." She turned around. "That's all it says." She glanced at Alistair, then shrugged, dropping her pack to the ground. Bit by bit, she started removing her armor.

He watched for a moment, an eyebrow arching up. "What... are... you... _doing_?"

"Uh... casting off the... trappings of worldly life, I suppose?" Serena pulled off her boots, standing in her leggings and tunic. "Hmm..." With a quick tug, she pulled her tunic up over her hand, too, and stepped out of her torn leggings.

"Maker's breath, Serena!" Alistair rushed forward, standing between her and the others, his eyes wide. "You're naked!"

"And you're not," she countered. "Come on, get cloaked in the goodness of spirit with me." Peering around his shoulder, she sought the eyes of the others. She could see Wynne was already removing her cloak and robes. "I'm not the only one who's going up to the Urn, right?"

"Oh, I think I like this test." Zevran dropped his pack and started unbuckling his armor. Beside him, Leliana was doing the same, removing her leathers and pulling her boots off.

"What about you, love?" Serena smirked at Alistair. "Will you be keeping your... trappings?"

Alistair rolled his eyes, dropping his pack to the ground. "Well, if everyone else is getting naked, I suppose I can't just stand here looking the fool..." He sighed as Serena moved to help him remove his swords and armor. "I wish we didn't have an audience for this," he murmured.

"At least we don't have to fight anyone in our knickers," Serena said, shrugging. "At least, I _hope_ we don't..."

Once everyone was down to their smallclothes, Serena grasped Alistair's hand.

"So what now? We just... we just walk through?"

"Yes. I think we just walk through."

Alistair peered at the fire, his eyes still looking uneasy. "It still feels very hot."

"Have faith, Alistair," Leliana said calmly, coming to stand at Serena's other side. They stood in a line, all five of them, all holding hands, and as one, stepped through the fire. Serena felt the tingling of the flames as they licked across her skin and hair; it was a bit like being in a high wind, only much warmer. Surprisingly, Serena found that the fire felt good on her injured leg, as if it was burning out the taint that stopped her from healing quickly, but too soon they were through, each marveling at their unburned skin.

"You have been through the trials of the Gauntlet; you have walked the path of Andraste, and like Her, you have been cleansed." The Guardian had returned, stepping through the flames himself, a smile on his face. Serena saw his eyes flick to Leliana and he gave her a small nod. "You have proven yourselves worthy, pilgrims. Approach the Sacred Ashes."

Serena felt her breath catch in her throat as they walked up to Urn, clad only in their small clothes and various bandages. An enormous statue of Andraste, a flame burning in her open hand, loomed over them as the Guardian walked to the top of the stairs and handed Serena a small leather pouch.

"Peace be with you, pilgrims," he murmured before he fading away. Behind him, the flames abruptly died.

"I never dreamed I would ever lay my eyes on the Urn of Sacred Ashes... I... I have no words to expess-" Leliana's voice sounded tiny in the enormity of the moment.

Stepping up the Urn, Serena pulled the large golden top off carefully. Her hand was shaking and she bit her lip, trying desperately to steady it. Taking a pinch of the Ashes, she placed them in the pouch the Guardian had given her and recovered the Urn, stepping back.

"Oh my," she sighed loudly. "I... I... oh, Maker..." Serena swooned, nearly falling to her knees as the magnitude of the moment washed over her in waves. Alistair was immediately beside her, whispering quietly in her ear, his strong arms helping her back to her feet.

"I'm sorry, I just... this is so...so..."

"I know, love, you don't have to explain." Alistair squeezed her hand tightly. "I didn't think anyone could succeed in finding Andraste's final resting place... but there... there She is. We did it."

"I could not have asked for a greater honor than to be here, Serena." Wynne placed a hand on her shoulder as they headed back down the staircase. "I will _never_ forget this feeling."

"Nor I," Zevran replied solemnly.

They moved back through the chamber, silently putting on their clothing and armor. Replacing her weapons in her belt, Serena took one last look at the Urn before leading them out of the temple and back to where Sten and Morrigan waited.

* * *

><p>Upon returning to the bottom of the temple, Genitivi was waiting for them. He still limped heavily, although no worse than Serena, but appeared in high spirits as they reached him. Peanut ran to meet Serena, taking great bounding leaps across the snow-covered floor to greet her.<p>

"My friends! It had been quite some time, I had started to worry..." The brother leaned against a pillar, smiling happily at Serena's mabari as he bounced around. "Such a wonderful animal you have there. A few of the cultists came down from that passageway, but he took care of them quickly enough while I hid." Serena noticed Genitivi was now wearing a strange collection of heavier clothes; mismatched gloves and a heavy cap to protect himself from the near freezing temperatures. She assumed they were... unintended gifts from the dead cultists.

"Did you find the Urn? I noticed you are limping... I hope the injury is not grave."

"It will heal in time," Serena replied. "But in better news... Yes!" She grinned as she held up the pouch of Ashes for the brother to see.

"Is that... oh, Maker... I'm not worthy to look upon..." Genitivi bowed his head, exhaling softly. "What... what was it like? Coming to see the Urn, I mean?"

"It was... I can't even explain... It was so... I can't thank you enough for helping us, Brother." Serena clasped the man in an unexpected hug, and after a moment, felt him return it.

"Thank you, dear girl. Perhaps my research will not seem so much like blasphemy to the Chantry now..." Genitivi patted Serena awkwardly on the shoulder, as if he didn't know what else to do. "We should organize an expedition here, perhaps. There is... so much history, it would be a shame to not study it further. And pilgrims... they should be allowed to come to the Urn."

"I'm not sure of the safety, honestly." Serena glanced quickly at the rest of her companions, noting the bruises and cuts that graced their faces and hands. "Certainly not everyone is as... capable as us, and we were not without our own... difficulties." She gestured to her bandaged leg, pulling down the side to expose the thick black stitches on her thigh. "You're welcome to bring an expedition of Chantry sisters, but I worry it would become-"

"A blood bath?" Morrigan supplied. "A massacre? A slaughterhouse, perhaps?"

"Yes, thank you, Morrigan," Serena murmured.

"There were many dragons," Sten added, pulling back his cuff to reveal a bright red burn there.

"Dragons? Hmm. Perhaps you've a point," Genitivi concluded. "Maybe a specialized group, if only to prove the Urn's existance, and collect samples for the Chantry..." The man nodded to himself. "Well, I shall think on it, anyway. This feels like... vindication, almost. After years of ridicule and being told the Urn was a myth, that it _couldn't_ exist... and here you've brought proof!"

"Yes, well, you certainly made believers out of us, Brother."


	56. Chapter 56

**Author's Note:** Thanks everyone for the kind words! This chapter was one of my favorite to write, because... well, you'll see. :)

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 56<span> - _Homecomings_

The journey back to Wildomire, where Bodahn and Sandal awaited them, took much longer than it should have. Between the groups' various injuries, including Brother Genitivi's still-sore leg, they were only able to walk for an hour or two before having to stop and rest. Added to that, the snow had piled up near the base of the mountain chain, causing further delays. By the time they stepped into the small village, it was nearly a week later.

"Ah, Lady Serena, how good to see you all again." The dwarf was sitting in the tiny inn, the only one Wildomire had, poring over a handful of maps in front of him. Trade routes marked in red crisscrossed the parchment. "I hope you were successful in your... endeavor?"

"_Very_ successful, Bodahn, thank you for asking." Serena pulled up a stool next to the dwarf. She found his infinite cheeriness infectious, especially after the time they'd had getting back here. "I apologize it took us so long to return." She glanced around the inn. "Would you and Sandal be ready to leave in the morning? We want to get back to Redcliffe as soon as possible."

"Of course, of course," the merchant replied. "We've been itching to return ourselves. We do fine business with that Murdock fellow, we do. Did you know I've outfitted most of the militia now?"

"I hope you mean in weapons, since I doubt those men would fit in dwarven boots," Serena mused, smirking gently.

"Ah, the finest metals gold can buy, as you well know, my lady," Bodahn said with a wink. "We're all paid up for the night, so my boy and I will follow your lead in the morning."

"Excellent. Thank you again, Bodahn, for your patience." Serena got up before remembering why she'd bothered the dwarven man in the first place. "We found Brother Genitivi, too. He'll be joining us until we reach Redcliffe, then he'll get a ride from there back to Denerim... if that's alright with you?"

"Not a worry, not a worry," the dwarf replied, returning to his maps again. "You and your friends are quite the formidable folk, Warden, I'm sure he'll be no trouble at all. But if you don't mind me saying so, you lot look like you could use a solid night's sleep."

* * *

><p>They arrived in Redcliffe in the middle of the following week; Serena realizing the chill in the air from the mountains had come down to settle in southern Ferelden, as well. Leliana let her know they had been on the road over a month, that it was nearly Firstfall, and the snow would be a permanent fixture on the landscape as the annum of Satinalia was upon them. Serena wondered if they would have to pack it in for the colder months... silently hoping they could get to Orzammar before the snow began to fall in earnest.<p>

Heading in the front gates of Redcliffe castle, Serena was instantly reminded of the vast differences between this trip back and their return from Circle Tower. The courtyard was literally filled with soldiers, knights and militiamen alike, practicing and sparring with each other in an effort to train outside in the last vestiges of Funalis.

The heraldry of multiple towns and nearby villages flashed across the enclosure: the shield of Rainesfere, which made sense given Bann Teagan's presence at the castle; one knight wore mail that bared the symbol of Lothering, perhaps he had been one of the many that had escaped before the darkspawn siege... the thought trailed off as Serena noticed another shield, this one baring the two crossed spears and raindrop mark of Highever.

Before she realized it, Serena was turning toward the symbol, her feet automatically taking her to the man who bore the shield, as if the Maker Himself guided her feet.

"Excuse me, ser…" The knight turned and she recognized his shaggy red hair immediately. It was Ser Dalton, one of Fergus's guardsmen.

"My lady Serena!" the man said, falling to one knee. Beside him another knight from Highever fell to his knee, bowing his head solemnly. Serena had forgot this protocol the knights insisted on for her, having been away from Highever for so long. Indeed, she'd almost forgot she was a Teyrn's daughter. "The Bann said you would return here, but we didn't dare hope... the _Ashes_..."

"Dalton, I cannot tell you my relief in seeing you all here..." Serena felt hot tears prick at the corners of her eyes. "I must ask... my brother? How fares Fergus?"

"He is with the Bann, my lady. We just returned ourselves yesterday, from a raid in Sothmere." The knight glanced at his fellow, shaking his head. "The darkspawn grow ever bolder. We barely escaped the Wilds."

"King Cailan said you were sent on a scouting mission-"

"Indeed! Darkspawn ambushed us," the other knight cut in. "But luckily a nearby hunting party of Chasind men came to our rescue, slaughtered the lot of them. We lost nearly a quarter of our number, but I daresay they've quite made up for it. Fierce warriors, the Chasind. I'm surprised they came with us-"

"Fergus will be anxious to see you, my lady," Dalton added, standing again. He smiled gently at her, gesturing to the front steps, urging her on.

"I shouldn't keep them waiting then," Serena replied, nodding gratefully to the two men. "We shall speak later! I want to hear _everything_!"

"Of course, my lady," Dalton bowed. "But go! They have awaited your return for weeks!" The knight shooed her off playfully, returning to his training as Serena turned, Alistair at her side.

"Your brother is here?"

"He's here!" Serena cried excitedly. She grabbed his hand and together they took the steps two at a time, as quickly as Serena could manage, before bursting into the castle's doors.

* * *

><p>Two men rose from their chairs as Serena's group entered the main hall. Bann Teagan was the first to recognize them, waving enthusiastically, his eyes silently imploring them. Beside him, a bearded man stood, although he appeared much younger looking than Teagan. Momentarily confused, Serena looked about, wondering if Dalton had been putting her on about the presence of her brother here.<p>

"Did you find it?" Isolde's voice was sharp, tinged with equal parts hope and despondency, as if she didn't quite believe they could return with the Ashes.

"Isolde-" Teagan began.

But Serena was already nodding, motioning to Alistair. He pulled out the small leather pouch and they strode purposefully to Bann Teagan, handing it to him.

"We were successful, Bann Teagan," Alistair said simply.

Teagan stared at the pouch for a moment before wrapping Alistair in a tight hug. Beside him, it appeared as if even Isolde wanted to hug him, which was exactly why Serena had given Alistair the Ashes in the first place. Let her try and hate the man now that he's gone and saved her son _and_ her husband, Serena thought smugly.

She smiled briefly at the scene before her her eyes noticed the bearded man again and he grinned at her.

"Sister, dear," he said. "How I've missed you."

Serena felt her eyes fill again as she recognized the voice, the kind eyes, her mother's eyes, through the thick dark beard. Limping awkwardly, she threw her arms around her brother, hugging him as tight as she could.

"Maker have mercy, Serena," Fergus complained. "You're going to crack a rib."

"Dalton was outside, he said the Chasind...?"

"I'll explain everything soon, I promise," Fergus reassured her. "Teagan told me you were searching for the Urn of Sacred Ashes? How in the Maker's name-"

"We got them, Fergus! And I saw Father..." At his bewildered expression, she grinned. "You're right, there's so much to explain. Perhaps we should try to wake the Arl, though."

"I would like you and Alistair to be there, if you would, my lady," Bann Teagan added. "Eamon is just in here."

"Could Fergus-?" Serena began.

"Of course," Teagan replied, leading them and Isolde through the hallway and into the master chambers. "Let's see if the Urn's healing powers live up to their reputation."

Inside the room, Arl Eamon lay on the bed, his face sallow and bruised-looking. A healer was inside, chanting quietly at the foot of the man's bed as he breathed slowly in and out. Teagan explained it was all they could do to get what little soup they could into him, to keep him alive.

"You came just in time, really. I feared another few days..." The Bann pulled out the pouch of Ashes, handing them to the healer, who then sprinkled them atop the nobleman's prone form, saying a few words quickly.

For a moment, it appeared as if nothing was going to happen, and Isolde fell to her husband's side, a choked sob escaping her.

"Sweet Maker, _please_-" Serena whispered.

"I think I... did he just twitch?" Alistair was whispering too, his hand naturally finding Serena's, both of them looking tense as the Arl's hand twitched again. Suddenly a purple haze seemed to rise out his body, escaping from his mouth, as if the Ashes themselves were drawing the poison from his body.

"Maker's breath, it's working!" Teagan rushed to his brother's side as the Arl slowly opened his eyes. Isolde was clutching his arm now, crying openly with joy.

"Teag-" the Arl coughed and tried to sit up. "Wh-where am I?"

"Be calm, brother. You have been deathly ill for a very long time." Teagan exchanged long glances with the others. "Do you remember anything?"

"Teagan... what are you doing here?" Eamon sat up, his eyes trying to focus. "Where is... Isolde!"

"Yes, I am here, my husband." Isolde had what looked like an iron grip on him. Serena didn't blame her. Weeks of watching your husband waste away before you... She shook her head, unable to finish the thought.

"And Connor? Where is my boy? Where is our son, Isolde?"

"He lives," Isolde murmured. "Though... many others are dead. It is my fault, Eamon. There is so much to tell you."

"Dead?" The Arl peered up at the ceiling, his eyes closing briefly, as if he was remembering something awful. "Then... it was not a dream."

Teagan looked awkward for a moment before continuing, as if he wished he had stockpiled some good news for his brother's return to health. "Much has happened since you fell ill, Brother. Some of it will not be... easy for you to hear."

"Then tell me," Eamon replied, sitting up straighter. "I wish to hear all of it."

* * *

><p>It was three full hours before they had finished catching Arl Eamon up on everything that had happened in the last few months. From Serena's introduction to the massacre at Highever and Duncan's offer of joining the Grey Wardens, to which Fergus looked at his boots, obviously uncomfortable hearing of his parents final moments.<p>

Next came the story of the darkspawn overrunning the Tower, and the shock of Loghain's betrayal, his pulling of his troops at Ostagar. Then came the one-two punch of the deaths of Duncan and King Cailan there... With a side glance, Alistair wisely left out the part about their miraculous save from the Tower by Flemeth and Morrigan. The less said about witches, the better, his expression said to her.

The Fall of Lothering, the undead rising and the Desire Demon that had possessed Connor came after that, as Eamon put a hand to his head, his eyes seeking Isolde.

"Husband, I..."

But Eamon held up a hand to silence her. "You have made grievous mistakes, Isolde, as have we all. While I understand why you did what you did, in the end, it put all of us at risk, and that is something... I shall have to think upon..."

He turned to Serena and Alistair, who sat together quietly at the end of the table, only interjecting when necessary. "There is much still to be done here, that is true. But I should first be thankful to those who have done so much."

"Alistair, Lady Serena... you and your companions have not only saved my life, but kept my family safe as well. A greater debt than that... I do not think I could possibly owe you. I hope you will permit me to offer you a reward for your service?"

"Arl Eamon... It is our honor, really..." Serena paused, fumbling on her words. She looked to Alistair, silently asking him for help.

"We humbly request your help with battling the Blight, Arl Eamon," Alistair said, bowing his head. "We are the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden, thanks to Loghain's treachery, and while we have gathered the Dalish and the Circle of Magi as allies, we still require more men."

"We mean to go to Orzammar next, to enlist the help of the dwarves," Serena added. "But with your men, and what forces my brother commands, we would be... we would be an army to rival the one we lost at Ostagar. Perhaps even better."

"Of course," Eamon said, nodding. "I understand, and salute you both for standing with such purpose, but regardless of your motivations, I feel you are still worthy of a reward and I would like to honor your efforts. Please allow me to declare you and those traveling with you as champions of Redcliffe. You will always be welcome guests within these halls." Beside him, Arlessa Isolde was nodding fervently.

"Thank you, your grace," Serena said, bowing her head. She felt Alistair's hand on her leg, his strength comforting her. "We are... honored."

"We should speak of Loghain, Brother," Teagan said. "There is no telling what he will do once he learns of your recovery."

"Loghain..." Eamon shook his head, as if he couldn't believe what he'd heard about the man. "He instigates a _civil war_ even though the darkspawn are on our very doorstep. Long I have known him. He is a sensible man; one who never desired power."

"I was there when he announced he was taking control of the throne, Eamon," the Bann persisted. "He is mad with ambition, I tell you."

Eamon shook his head, his face grim. "Mad indeed! Mad enough to kill poor Cailan, to attempt to kill myself and destroy my lands..."

"He tried to have us killed, as well," Alistair added. "He contracted one of the Antivan Crows to do it." Alistair exchanged glances with Serena, smiling crookedly. "He failed, obviously."

"Whatever happened to him, Loghain must be stopped," Eamon said firmly. "What's more, we can scarce afford to fight _this_ war to its bitter end."

"You could unite the nobility against Loghain, couldn't you?" Serena asked. She looked across the table to Fergus, who nodded. "Highever stands with you, of course. I'm sure others in the Bannorn would..."

"I could unite those opposing Loghain, yes," Eamon conceded. "But not _all_ oppose him. He has some very powerful allies. From what you all have told me of Rendon Howe... it would appear they have been very... busy... since I fell ill. I'm sure the exchange of gold has... strengthened their numbers, at least some."

"The truth of the matter is we have no time to wage a campaign against him. Someone must surrender if Ferelden is to have any chance at fighting the darkspawn." Eamon stood up from the table and began to pace. "I will spread word of Loghain's treachery, both here and against the king, but it will be but a claim made without proof. Those claims will give Loghain's allies pause, but we must combine it with a challenge Loghain _cannot_ ignore. We need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain's daughter, Anora."

Serena felt Alistair stiffen beside her, his hand tightening almost painfully on her leg. Indeed, they both knew what was coming next, had known it would come eventually.

"Are you referring to Alistair, Brother?" Teagan asked. "Are you certain?"

Eamon turned, looking to Alistair, his eyes sympathetic. "I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative, but the unthinkable has occurred."

"I love how I'm the _unthinkable alternative_," Alistair muttered under his breath to Serena.

"Be calm, my prince," Serena said quietly, tapping his hand on her leg. Turning to Eamon, she raised her voice. "So you intend to put Alistair forward as king then." It wasn't a question.

"Teagan and I have a claim through marriage," the Arl said. "But we would seem oppotunists, no better than Loghain. Alistair's claim is by blood."

"_Bastard _blood," Alistair said, louder this time. His eyes were dark with anger and another emotion Serena couldn't place.

"Alistair... please..." Serena murmured. "This isn't the time..."

"No, Serena. _Damnit_." He turned to the others. "When _will_ it be time? Doesn't anyone care what I want?"

"You have a responsibility, Alistair," Eamon said, sounding every bit the exacting father figure. "Without you, Loghain wins. I would have to support him, for the sake of Ferelden. Is that what you want?"

"I... but… I..." Serena placed her hand over Alistair's, squeezing it gently beneath the table. He sighed, the fight going out of him as he realized the truth of the arl's words. "No, my lord."

"I see only one way to proceed then. Once you and Lady Serena have returned from Orzammar, I will call for a Landsmeet, in Denerim. There, Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or another." Eamon looked from Alistair's sullen face to Serena's thoughtful one and sighed himself. "Then the business of fighting our true foe can begin."

"Do you think the Landsmeet will work?" Fergus asked. Serena looked across the table to her brother, thankful for his added presence at the meeting. "Our father said they usually devolve into nothing more than an enormous shouting match..."

"That depends," Eamon considered. "If we cannot gain a consensus in the Landsmeet for Alistair, we cannot afford to oppose Loghain either. Ferelden must stand united to defeat the darkspawn. A fractured nation will not stand against the Blight, even given my army and those fathered with your treaties."

"Perhaps Loghain gambles on this attitude, though." Fergus tapped out a steady rhythm on the table, a gesture Serena recognized from their father when he was thinking hard on something. "Perhaps he thinks that everyone will decide facing the darkspawn is more vital than facing him... and thus, he leads us against the horde, and secures the throne for himself permanently."

"That's assuming he ever officially recognizes the darkspawn threat at all," Alistair exclaimed. "He certainly denied it was a Blight enough at Ostagar." He nodded to Serena. "You heard him."

"Since we hadn't seen the archdemon yet, he insisted to Cailan it was not a Blight at all," Serena clarified. "But we _have_ seen it, Alistair and I. This is a true Blight." She rubbed her head tiredly. "It would appear we have little choice in the matter, moving forward. We must oppose Loghain, and quickly, if we want the best chance possible to protect Ferelden."

"Exactly," Eamon said. "But before we adjourn for the evening, I believe there is the matter of the mage... my son's supposed tutor." He turned to Teagan. "You said he still lives?"

"Yes." The Bann nodded, signaling to one of the guards. "Bring Jowan here, if you please."

It was a few minutes of tense silence, Isolde looking particularly uncomfortable, before Jowan returned with the guard, looking much better physically than he had the last time Serena had seen him, although no less hopeful.

"Jowan. What you have done is not in question," the Arl said, his voice ominous. Serena wondered if he was actually angry, or just trying to sound intimidating. "You tried to assassinate me, and set into motion a series of events that nearly destroyed everything I cherish. What have you to say in your own defense?"

The dark haired mage hung his head in shame. "Nothing, my lord... other than to say I am truly sorry. I expect no mercy for what I have done. I should not have been so easily swayed to do evil by Loghain, and for that... I deserve whatever punishment you'll have for me."

"I see." Unexpectedly, the Arl turned to Serena, his eyebrow raised in question. "Lady Serena, have you anything to say on Jowan's behalf?"

"May I say, my grace, that Jowan, despite his mistakes, seems earnest in his desire to repent. Without him, we might not have reached the castle in time to help your son at all." She looked pointedly to Isolde, the silent accusation speaking for itself.

Between the guards, Jowan bowed his head to her, gratefulness etched into his features.

"I see. That is... surprising." Eamon, too, looked to his wife, an emotion not unlike heartache crossing his countenance. "And what would you have me do? As the injured party, my ability to see the merciful path is... strained."

"I hope your retribution could be saved for Loghain, my grace," Serena continued. "And that Jowan may be returned to the Circle. As a talented mage, I hope to call on his help _personally_ in battling the Blight when the time comes."

"True enough," Eamon said. "And wisely said. We shall need all the capable allies we can gather in these dark times." He turned to the mage. "Jowan, I hereby turn you over to the Circle of Magi. My knights will return you to Kinloch Hold within the week."

"T-thank you, my lord. This is a mercy I do not deserve, and please know, I will _not _squander this second chance you and my lady have granted me." Jowan bowed low, his lank hair hanging in his face, big dark eyes wide, almost like a child's. "Thank you." The guards led him away, presumably back to the dungeons.

"I believe that is all for this evening," Eamon said with a sigh. "Isolde tells me your companions are already set up in some of the guest rooms. Alistair, if you would permit, I would like to speak with you after dinner..."

"Yes, m'lord," Alistair said softly.

"I shall see the rest of you at dinner, then." With a final nod, he disappeared with Isolde to the master chambers.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until later that night that Serena saw Alistair again, alone. She was reading through Duncan's journal once again, trying to piece together the life of the man she'd barely known, but still felt such a deep connection with. His entries were scattered, some months and even years apart. It appeared, unlike her, he'd kept one journal his entire adult life, and simply added pages to it as needed.<p>

Surprisingly, King Maric's name showed up quite a few times. Serena wondered if Alistair had known his late father had been a good friend of the Warden-Commander; that in lieu of being able to check on the boy himself, Duncan had unofficially watched over him for years... She closed the journal, setting it aside as the sound of boots came down the hall and stopped in front of her door. There was a long pause, as if the person was deciding whether they wanted to knock or not.

Then there was the sound, soft but urgent, and when she opened the door, Alistair was there, putting a hand to his lips, beckoning her to follow. Grabbing a cloak from her bed, she quickly pulled on her boots and trailed after him, walking as quietly as her slight limp would allow.

They traveled through the hallways until they ended up outside, on a porch overlooking the lake beyond. He leaned against a pillar, his eyes reflecting the moonlight, and in that moment, he looked... absolutely miserable.

"It's official. They want me to be king."

Serena came over and tugged him down to the bench, folding her hands in her lap. It pained her to stand for too long in one place, as her leg seemed to take its time healing completely. "We knew this would come, eventually."

"I just... I never thought things would get so bad _I _would actually be a viable candidate for the throne." Alistair ran a hand through his dark blonde hair. "Me. King! Who in their right mind would listen to anything I said?"

"Oh, I don't know," Serena murmured, leaning on his shoulder. "_I'd_ swear fealty to you, my prince."

"You better believe you would," Alistair said ardently. "If you think I'm doing this _without_ you..."

"How did it go?"

"Awful," Alistair replied. "Well, not awful, but... I don't know what Eamon was expecting, honestly. Should I be happy about this? It feels like everyone has control over my life but _me_." He rubbed his temples, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "Anyway, this isn't what I brought you out here for."

He fumbled at his neck, pulling a thin chain from around his neck. "Do you remember that ring my father gave me? In the Gauntlet?" At Serena's nod, he held the ring up, and Serena saw it glint in the moonlight. "It has an inscription. I couldn't read it... it's not the King's Tongue." He paused, staring at the ring, as if gaining strength from it. "I showed it to Brother Genitivi, though... did you know he can read elvish?"

"I'm not surprised," Serena murmured. "He's been on more adventures than _we_ have." She glanced at the ring; Alistair was rolling it around nervously in his fingers now. "So... do you know what it says?"

"_Ma emma sa'lath_."

"You... my... something." Serena shook her head. "I don't know. Elora didn't teach me that much."

"_You are my one love_," he whispered. The ring flipped between his fingers again and Serena felt her stomach tighten.

"I wondered why would my father have a ring with elvish on it?" Alistair placed the silver band on his left ring finger, where it was obviously too small. "He must have worn it around his neck, like I did. He was given this ring, by someone who understood elvish. A woman who loved him. Then I remembered what he said. _Your mother is an incredible warrior. An incredible woman_."

"He didn't use the past tense," Serena said softly. "Your mother… she wasn't a serving maid at the castle, was she?"

"No, she wasn't." Alistair peered out at the lake again. "I asked Eamon. He said he never knew her personally, that Maric only ever told him that she was a Grey Warden. They had met in the Deep Roads during some secret mission, and after, she had been recalled to Weisshaupt permanently. It's why she insisted they concoct that story... about my mother being human, and dead."

"Human? Oh." Serena looked up from her hands, realization dawning on her. "_Oh_."

"The elvish," Alistair confirmed, looking at his boots. "An elven Grey Warden. It would appear I am equal parts my mother and father. Grey Warden and reluctant prince... Lucky me."

"Is she still alive? We could-"

"Eamon didn't know. Maybe? Weisshaupt is a thousand miles from here, though, deep in the Anderfels. I may never see her before... Assuming she's even still... I don't know. It's been nearly 21 years, anyway." Alistair gripped the ring tightly in his hand. "It's good to know, at least. To know the truth."

Serena leaned against him. "Are you okay?"

"I will be."

They sat quietly for a long moment, neither saying anything. Serena was rubbing her hand across his shoulder, unsure of what to say. Indeed, what do you say to someone who found out their mother, who they previously thought was dead, might possibly be alive, and a Grey Warden, and an elf, and… Serena sighed. Things were never easy for this poor man, were they? She leaned over and hugged him tightly, letting her actions speak for her.

"I spoke with your brother, too," Alistair said after awhile. "After I left the... the meeting with the Arl, I ran into him in the hall. It kind of felt like... he was waiting for me."

"Fergus? Oh, I'm sorry, he didn't _say_ anything, did he?" Serena looked up at the night sky. Even after everything that had happened, Fergus was still Fergus. "He can be a bit... overprotective. I'll always be his baby sister, you know? I don't think he can help himself."

"You're lucky, to have him. Sometimes I think about Cailan and... well, I suppose it doesn't matter now."

"To have him back is a blessing," Serena said quietly. "I thought he was... anyway. What did he say to you?"

"We stepped into the study and he... thanked me. For keeping you safe when he couldn't." Alistair stopped rolling the ring in his hand and took one of Serena's. "He said he saw the way we looked at each other and he wanted to... He asked me what my intentions towards you were."

Serena's hand flew to her mouth in embarrassment. "Oh _no_, he didn't-"

"I replied that while I haven't known you for too terribly long, I... intended to ask you to be my wife."

"A-Alistair?"

"Serena..." He shifted off the bench then, coming to kneel on the ground in front of her. "_You_ are my one love." He held out the small silver ring to her; his eyes were searching hers, that same look he gave her all the way back in Ostagar, as if he were trying to memorize her face forever.

"Will you marry me?"

"_Yes_." She grinned. "Yes! Absolutely yes."

She held out her hand and he slid the ring on her finger, where it fit perfectly. It was made for a woman's hand, the inscription running across the top. _Ma emma sa'lath_. Then he was pulling her to her feet, wrapping her in his arms, his smile wider than she'd ever seen it.

"I love you so much," she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder.

"I wouldn't even be here without you, Serena. If I'm to be king, it will be with _you_ by my side as my queen, always."

"Always," she intoned, pressing a kiss to his lips. "So, my brother..."

Alistair laughed. "He said 'good luck, she's never taken to a suitor before, but maybe you'll be the first!' He's a good man, Fergus. I think it will be nice, having a brother-in-law."

"Oh, just you wait until he starts in on you! You'll be singing a different tune when he starts asking pertinent questions about our sex life." Serena tugged him back down to the bench, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Her heart felt fit to burst. "Does Eamon know?"

"No. Just Fergus. And you. And me, of course." Alistair shrugged. "He'll find out eventually. I just figured he has a lot to be getting on with now, what with just waking up from a coma-"

"You don't want to tell him, do you?" Serena interrupted. "I don't blame you. I've only just met him, and the father figure business is a bit... intense. My father went on about duty a lot, but... yeesh. You two aren't even related, really."

"Yes... I'm not looking forward to the 'kings don't make rash decisions like marrying the women they love' lecture, certainly. I've thought about this for some time now, though." Alistair leaned back on the bench, his arm lazily resting across Serena's shoulders, his face looking much as it had when she met him Ostagar that first time- happy and carefree. "I can't imagine my life without you, why should I wait for some arbitrary amount of time to say I love you in a permanent way?"

"You remember what else my father said, right?_ I pray you do not repeat my mistakes_. He lost the woman he loved, _twice_. I'll never let that happen." Alistair leaned over and kissed Serena's temple. "Besides, who else could handle all this gorgeousness?"

"Only you, _your highness_," Serena teased, shifting her body so she was straddling across his lap.

"Oh no, don't you start that..." Alistair began, but Serena covered his mouth with hers, stopping his protest with a deep kiss.

"Shouldn't it be your _majesty_ now, anyway?" he murmured around her lips.

"Mmnnmmm… It's your majesty when you're officially king..." Serena kissed along his collarbone, punctuating each word with another kiss. "For now, you're only a prince until the Landsmeet, your highness..."

"See? This is why I need you. You know all this... royal information." He sighed, tipping his head back in pleasure against her machinations. "You know... uhhh... lots of... kingly... stuff..."

"I also know some very common-born stuff, too..."

Alistair raised an eyebrow, already lifting her up. "Oh, really?"

"_Lots_." She giggled as he set Serena back on her feet, tugging her back to their room to celebrate.


	57. Chapter 57

**Author's Note:** Thanks everyone who has been reviewing and adding the story to the favorites and alerts!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 57<span> - _Three Kings_

The group relaxed at Redcliffe for the rest of the week, prepping for their journey to Orzammar. Serena spent much of the time working on a plan in the Arl's study. When not devouring books on previous Blights, the Old Gods, the Deep Roads, and anything she could find about the dwarves, she was with Fergus.

Watching them together, Alistair felt a slight envy he had never gotten to know Cailan better. He found himself wondering at the extent of the late king's knowledge of him. Surely he had known they shared a father, but the familiarity seemed to end there. Perhaps he had been little more than a reminder of a supposed momentary dalliance of his fathers? Alistair sighed, realizing he would never know now.

"Brother, surely it's time to shave that bloody thing off, isn't it?" Serena's voice drifted into the hallway and Alistair found himself drawn to it, as he always was in quieter moments. He paused outside the door to the study, unsure whether he wanted to interrupt.

"You don't think it makes me look all rugged and manly? I tell you, the village girls certainly swoon when they see me." Fergus chuckled. "Besides, it keeps my face warm in these cold Satinalia months..."

"You would think your ego alone would be enough to do that..."

"I apologize we can't all be as silky smooth as your darling young husband-"

"Shhhh!" Serena hissed. Alistair grinned as he heard the sound of a smack on fabric. "Nobody is supposed to know about that yet, you ponce!"

Another loud chortle. "Then perhaps you ought to stop looking so happy all the bloody time," Fergus replied. "The nerve of you two... honestly. Don't you know this is a Blight?"

"I hate you."

"No, you don't. You love me. Maybe not as much as Alistair, but surely I'm a close second?" Fergus's voice was teasing. "I'm happy for you, though, truly. It's heartening to see something good came of all of this... madness."

There was a long silence before Serena spoke again. "I miss Oren, Fergus."

"Yes..." The older man sighed, the long escape of air that came from a grief held barely in check. "I wanted to send a scout, for news of Highever, but the risk was just too great... The rumors we've caught are bad enough as it is. That wretch Howe... if I ever get my hands on him, I'll rip him limb-from-limb, Serena. I swear, not even the Maker Himself would be able to hold me back."

There was the sound of a chair scraping the stone and Alistair imagined Serena standing, wrapping her brother in a hug like she had done for him so many times. Fergus was handling the murder of his wife and son with remarkable grace, certainly better than Alistair had handled Duncan's death, and they hadn't even been related...

"He looks like Oren, you know," Fergus said softly. "The Arl's boy. When we first arrived, I thought... I thought I was seeing a ghost. I nearly started crying right there."

"I know. When I first saw him, he was... possessed, you know. All I could think of was what if it was Oren? What if this happened to Oren?" Serena sighed. "I still can't believe they're gone. That... that one day we'll return to Highever and Oriana won't be there, that Mother and Father won't-" Her voice broke and Alistair had to still his hand against the stones at his back, the urge to go to her... to comfort her was so strong.

"I was speaking to Eamon, he believes I should think of remarrying," Fergus said. "During the Landsmeet, he plans on decrying Howe as a violent usurper, and having Alistair reinstate me as teyrn." His voice was incredulous. "Can you imagine? Me? A teyrn? It sounds so bizarre."

"You sound just like Alistair," Serena said, her voice still sounding thick. "He doesn't think he'll be a good king..."

"Raised a bloody army, didn't he?" Fergus countered quickly, making Alistair smile. Listening to Serena's brother talk about him, he felt a warm glow inside. Despite only knowing the man for a few days, after hearing of his many ordeals, he respected Fergus Cousland a great deal. He wished he'd been able to meet their father, Bryce.

"You lot fought a damned high dragon for _fun_. That blighting archdemon can't be much different. Besides, he's got _you_, Serena. A Theirin and Cousland on the throne? Together, you could have Loghain and all those turncoats on their knees, I know it."

"Here's hoping Howe is right next to Loghain when we do it, then," Serena said fiercely. "Two birds, one sword..."

"Ah, my dear sister. Listening to you speaking of revenge... It's almost quaint," Fergus teased.

"Oh, pfft. I've killed worse, I'll have you know! Demons, werewolves... a bloody high dragon!" Serena scoffed. "Though, if anyone owes that snake a sword in the gut, it's you, Brother."

"A vow I may just hold you to, when we arrive in Denerim," Fergus replied. "Hmm, I should get going..." There were more sounds of chairs scraping the floor and Alistair glanced around the hallway, looking for something to occupy himself with quickly so he didn't look like he was so obviously eavesdropping. "That bloke Murdock wanted to discuss fortifications for the village before we march to Oswin tomorrow in case the darkspawn show their faces..."

"Alistair! I was just about to go find you-"

Alistair turned, sure his cheeks were burning, and waved awkwardly at the siblings. "I was just passing by..."

"You have the best timing then," Serena gushed, tucking her arm into his. She grinned up at him, and Alistair was happy to see his father's ring, which Serena had taken to calling 'emma', was gleaming brightly on her left hand. "Alban said he's making cookies!"

"I'll see you both at dinner," Fergus called, nodding to Alistair. "Assuming you don't eat us right out of the castle before then!" He strode off down the hall, humming gently to himself.

"So... cookies, you say?" Alistair prompted.

"Mmhmm. The most delicious you've ever tasted." Serena cast a quick look around before running a hand along his jaw. The kiss was quick and sweet, and she tasted a bit like the blueberries they'd had at breakfast. "You're lucky I'm already hopelessly in love, otherwise I might run away with that cook."

"And after all I've done for you..."

"It's true. Fergus tells me I'm a terrible tease." Serena grinned again, pulling him along to the kitchen where the large cook waved to them both. Surprising them both, they found Brother Genitivi sitting at the small table, eating a sandwich as he perused a book from the Arl's collection.

"Brother Genitivi! I thought you'd left for Denerim already." Serena smiled, taking the plate of cookies from Alban and sat down across from the chantry scholar.

"Ah, tomorrow, when your brother takes his men to Oswin, I'll be going with one of the merchant caravans heading to the capital." The man took one of the cookies Serena offered him and smiled. "And haven't I told you to call me Ferdinand?"

"Right, sorry," Serena blushed. She pulled up another chair for Alistair, who sat down gratefully. "How is your leg doing?"

"Oh, you wouldn't even know it was busted, that Wynne is a marvel." Genitivi blushed slightly, biting into another cookie. "How fares your own injury, my dear?"

"Healing, slowly. It barely pains me now." Alistair knew that was a lie; Serena often woke up in the middle of the night, shifting uneasily as a twinge of pain from the stitches, which had busted twice more on the trek to Wildomire, stole over her. Between that and the renewed nightmares, Serena was not sleeping well.

"Regardless, it has to be better, we leave for Orzammar in two days time," Serena finished.

"Ah, Orzammar," Genitivi sighed, nodding. "They allow so few topsiders within its hallowed halls nowadays, I wish you luck. I'd heard, from your friend Bodahn in fact, that old Endrin had finally passed away and the Assembly is in an uproar over a replacement."

"Who is Endrin?" Serena asked.

"Endrin Aeducan is... _was_ the dwarven king, descended down from Paragon Aeducan, who led the dwarven armies against the darkspawn in the First Blight. He saved the city of Orzammar, when all other cities and thaigs fell to the fiends." Alistair wanted to laugh- Genitivi never answered a question simply. He was like a walking, talking textbook.

"So how is it the dwarves have a king? I thought they... voted on everything, or something like that?" Alistair chewed one of the cookies thoughtfully. Serena was right, they were delicious. "That's the Assembly, right? Seems a bit like overkill to me, having a king _and_ a voting body."

"Well, it's more of a constitutional monarchy than anything else," Genitivi clarified. "Their kings are elected, like ours, instead of ascending to the throne by a royal line, like in Antiva or Orlais. So if you think about it, the Landsmeet isn't unlike the Assembly, in a lot of ways. All the noble houses and lords would be like our freeholders... only they meet much more frequently, of course. Nearly _every_ decision or policy is voted upon, I believe."

"Do they shout as much, though?" Serena asked, grinning.

"More so, I'd imagine. Dwarves can be quite loud." Genitivi smiled. "I do hope you're careful, though, my lady. Dwarven politics are... well, they make our Landsmeet look like a picnic, at times."

"How do you mean?"

"Ah, it can... let's just say it can get bloody, quite literally. Their nobles tend to engage in a deadly political game of intrigue that... shames the goings on in our... simpler courts." The Brother looked uncomfortable for a moment before picking up his dirty dishes and handing them to the kitchen assistant. "If I don't see you all again before tomorrow, Maker be with you all." With a little wave, he left the room.

Serena watched the chantry scholar as he left, her expression pensive as she seemed to consider his words.

"One treaty left, and of course it won't be easy. It's never easy." Serena slammed her hand on the table. "We'll probably have to battle a demon-possessed werewolf darkspawn or something..."

"We don't _know_ that," Alistair reasoned. He took her hand across the table, squeezing it gently. He felt guilty, complaining about being king when he'd basically left the majority of the tough decisions to her since... well, since he met her, really.

"I hate being leader," she said grumpily, echoing his thoughts.

"But you _are_ good at it."

Serena scoffed, shaking her head. She glanced out the window, her eyes far away. "I get people hurt... Leliana, Sten... I even got myself hurt. Two of Kuno's men _died_..."

"More would have, if you hadn't woken us all up, insisted that we... Serena, look at me." Alistair watched as her blue eyes flicked back to him briefly before resting on the surface of the table. He wished nothing more than to be able to read her mind in that moment.

"You do the best you can, Serena, the best any of us can." Serena glanced up at that as if she wanted to protest, but Alistair held up a hand, cutting her off before she could begin. "_No_. If I have to be king and not spend all my bloody time moping about it, then neither can you. We're in this together, right?" He reached over, tapping the ring on her finger, and saw the corners of her mouth perk up.

"You're right. I'm being... thoughtless." She slipped her hand into his again, intertwining their fingers. "I'm sorry, love. I must sound like a spoiled brat, huh?"

"I'll forgive you this _one_ time, I suppose," Alistair replied, arching an eyebrow mockingly. "But only because you agreed to my ridiculous demand of marriage."

Serena laughed. "Oh yes, what were you thinking with that?"

"Perhaps I was simply struck dumb by your beauty, my lady," Alistair teased.

"Pfft. Don't you know flattery will get you everywhere with me?"

"I can't deny that's what I was hoping..."

"Seems to me you're already getting the handle on political manipulation, then, hmm?" Serena stood, wrapping her arms around Alistair's shoulders. "I knew you'd grow to enjoy this king business."

* * *

><p>It took a week to reach the gates of Orzammar. Buried deep in the foothills of the northern Frostback Mountains, Orzammar was surrounded by a large base camp, almost a miniature city in and of itself, where merchants has set up shop to deal with the dwarves directly.<p>

"Most traders aren't allowed into Orzammar, so they just sort of... gather near the doors," Alistair murmured from beside Serena. His honey-colored eyes were taking in all the different stalls they passed, and Serena couldn't help but be reminded a tiny bit of the market in Highever. "There's no laws up here at all, or so I've been told."

"It's just strange, being this far north and not heading to Highever." Serena sighed as images and sensations of the city flooded her consciousness. The smell of the sea air, the hills that surrounded their castle... Serena could almost picture the grazing sheep on the horizon. "I shudder to think what it looks like now under that madman, Howe."

"My son and I were going to head over that way, my lady," Bodahn spoke up from the wagon. "If you'd like, we could bring back news."

"Oh yes! I mean... Fergus would want to know, too, I'm sure." Serena smiled up at the dwarf as he jockeyed the wagon into one of the empty merchant stalls. "Are you sure you don't want to come inside Orzammar though? It's been awhile since-"

"Oh, no, we're surfacers now," Bodahn replied quickly, shaking his head. "We... we wouldn't be welcome, I'm afraid. Strict rules and all that."

"I... I'm sorry, Bodahn, I didn't mean anything..."

"Think nothing of it, my lady," the dwarf said, wiping the grim look off his face and replacing it with a cheery smile. "We'll meet you back at the Circle Tower in two weeks time, just as we discussed." The dwarf tipped his hat to Alistair. "M'lord." With another nod, he spun on his heel and headed for one of the nearby merchant tents.

"_Awkward_..." Alistair murmured softly. "Oof!" He smiled crookedly as Serena elbowed him in the stomach.

"Maker's breath, if there isn't one day where I could go about my business without coming off as a total ass..." Serena sighed.

"Well, good luck with that, love. I've been seeing your total ass since Ostagar."

"Are you complaining, my dear Alistair?" The elven assassin had come up beside them, his eyebrow arched curiously. "I could... take our deadly sex goddess off your hands if you're tired of her...?"

"As if I'm some commodity people deal in!" Serena kicked out at Zevran playfully. "_Oh... I'll have two Serenas, I think, and three new horseshoes for my stallion here as well, if you please_." Serena huffed, wrinkling her nose as she pushed at the two men. "I understand we're around dwarves and the urge to trade must be great, but honestly!"

"Oh, surely you know Alistair only cares the utmost for your hindquarters, sweet Warden," Zevran purred, evading Serena's smack just barely. "He certainly spends enough time appraising their quality, no?" The two men laughed heartily as Serena flushed again.

"I just want to make it clear that I hate you both. Very, _very_ much."

"You love to hate us, my dear," Zevran teased. "Emphasis on the love, of course."

"If you're quite through, elf," Morrigan scoffed, "I believe we have a problem." The witch's golden eyes flicked meaningfully behind Serena and she turned around.

Two of the most immense metal doors Serena had ever seen loomed ahead. Scanning the area for what Morrigan could have been talking about, Serena immediately noticed a group of men shouting angrily at a stout dwarf, clad in heavy armor. To his credit, the dwarf appeared completely nonplussed.

"You insult all of Ferelden with your actions! King Loghain will not suffer the delay of his appointed messenger!"

"Oh dear, _King_ _Loghain_, is it?" Wynne clucked her tongue in disapproval. "Even his couriers carry his arrogance now."

"Veata!" The dwarf replied, holding out his hand to stop the men from storming the doors. Behind him, two more dwarfs pulled enormous great swords in warning. "This land is held in trust for the sovereign dwarven kings. I cannot allow entry at this time."

"King Loghain demands the allegiance of the deshyr, or lords or... whatever you call them in your Assembly!" The man stomped his foot angrily. "I am his appointed messenger!"

"And strangely enough, the lad seems _proud_ of that," Alistair muttered, rolling his eyes.

"I don't care if you're the king's wiper," the dwarf said. "Orzammar will have none but its own until our throne is settled."

"Excuse me, ser..." Serena walked up to the dwarf, curtsying politely. "We've heard of King Endrin's passing, and we wish to extend our condolences to the people of Orzammar from the Ferelden Grey Wardens."

"I love it when she gets all... official," Alistair murmured to Wynne.

"You'd do best to take notes, young man," the mage replied, raising an eyebrow.

The dwarf bowed his head to Serena. "Thank you, it has been a trying time indeed for our people. King Endrin returned to the Stone not three weeks ago... sick over the loss of his sons. The Assembly has gone through a dozen votes without agreeing on a successor. If it is not settled soon, we risk a civil war."

"I apologize for my forwardness, ser, but the Blight is coming, ravaging the land, and the Grey Wardens have come to call on their traditional dwarven allies." Serena handed the treaty to the guard and curtsied again for good measure.

"The Wardens killed King Cailan and nearly doomed Ferelden!" The messenger spoke up. "They're sworn enemies of King Loghain."

"There's that name again..." Zevran grumbled.

The dwarven man rolled his eyes at the other man's outburst and glanced over the treaty. "Well, that is the royal seal. That means only the Assembly is authorized to address it." He shot a smug look to Loghain's messenger, his beard twitching, before he spoke again. "Grey Wardens, you may pass."

"You're letting in a _traitor_? And a foreigner?" The stubbly-faced courier seemed beside himself. "In the name of King Loghain I demand that you execute this... this _stain_ on the honor of Ferelden!"

"That's enough out of you!" Serena whirled on the man, pulling her dagger in one fluid motion. "Raise your blade to me yourself, if you're so outraged with my presence here."

"Eh, Imrek, maybe we ought to just... go..." The mage was looking about quickly, as if he'd prefer to be anywhere else.

"I... I will not... I'm the king's messenger! I am-"

"So you've said fifty sodding times already," the dwarf replied harshly. "If you've got issue with the Wardens, take it off my sodding doorstep, you blighting fool!"

"Do yourself a favor and back away," Alistair said, pulling his long sword from it's sheath. He stepped forward to stand beside Serena, smiling cruelly as he towered over the messenger's slighter form. "Loghain is the traitor, who quit the field at Ostagar. Your armor tells me you were in his retinue, so you know what _really_ happened there, don't you?"

"What? I... those are n-nothing but lies and... and s-slander! King Loghain will not suffer it-"

"I'm quite sick of hearing what _King Loghain_ will and will not suffer," Serena called. "Either fight us, or shut that bloody hole you call a mouth."

"Ha! Well said, Warden." The dwarf turned to his fellows, grinning. "Girl has a bit of spunk, eh? Reminds me of my sister."

The messenger looked to his two fellows, an apostate mage and a city guard, by the looks of his armor. "If you wish to duel, then... then I shall be forced to show you the full might of the Crown!"

"Three-on-three, then," Serena said. "Alistair, Zevran, let's show these fools what working for a king killer will get them."

"This is better than the Provings," one of the guards said happily. "Care to make a wager, Barok?"

"You're on!" the bearded dwarf called back. "A sovereign on Spunky to gut the loudmouth cloudhead first." Their bet decided, the dwarves backed up from the group, giving them a wide berth.

The messenger awkwardly pulled his own long sword and shield, which gleamed brightly with nary a scratch; Serena guessed the man had never even used the thing for defense previous to this. Hesitantly, he moved forward to engage her, as if he had only watched people fight in a ring and had never actually done it himself. His two bodyguards wisely backed away from him.

He thrust clumsily, and Serena almost felt bad as she easily parried the blow and swept his legs out from under him, knocking him to the ground. Quick as a whip, Serena was on him, pressing her dagger to his throat.

"Here's the part where I give you one more chance to yield and admit you're just a giant prat," Serena said softly. "I suggest you come quietly."

The messenger spat at her. "Traitors! Scum!" Serena punched him hard in the gut, and the man coughed harshly before panting out, "Wardens... will pay!"

"I could have sworn I said _quietly_," Serena muttered, grabbing the man's head by the hair and slamming it on the ground. There was a loud crack and the messenger's eyes rolled around in his head as he moved his mouth, looking a bit like a fish out of water. Taking pity, Serena slided her dagger across his throat, ending it quick. There was a gurgling sound and then nothing as the man thrashed briefly beneath her before lying still. "Looks like you're going back to _King Loghain_ in a body bag."

"I'll take care of the mage, if neither of you mind," Alistair said. Serena felt the push of his templar magic as he disabled the apostate's abilities before the man even knew what had hit him.

"You're a bloody templar?" the mage cried, backing away frantically. "I didn't sign up to _die_ for that nutter Loghain! I was just earning a bit of coin, that's all."

"You'll do your damn duty to the Crown, coin or not!" the guardsmen bellowed, grabbing the mage by the back of his robes and shoving him roughly to the ground beside him. "Cowardly damn knife-ear." He turned towards Serena as she stood up from the body of the dead messenger, pulling his own sword.

"_Really?_" Serena asked the guard, incredulous. Her hand was on her hip as she flipped her bloody dagger in her other hand. "I just killed your friend there in three seconds. Surely you aren't _that_ stupid."

"Bloody bitches and knife-ears, this country really has gone to the dogs..." The guard moved to lunge at Serena, but Zevran moved faster; his blades were a flash of silver and then the bodyguard was on the ground, a pool of crimson blood spreading out beneath him.

"I would prefer if you did not refer to my people by such derogatory terminology," the assassin said, pulling his long dagger from the body as it fell to the ground in a heap at his feet. "Nor my beautiful lady companions."

"Don't kill the mage, Alistair," Serena commanded, her eyes narrowed at the dead guardsmen as she sidestepped his corpse. "He's the only one of these three with any sense." Turning to the elf, she wiped her blades clean, making sure he saw them. "What's your name?"

"Alim! Alim Surana," the elf gasped, running a nervous hand over his spiky black hair. Quickly smoothing it back, he scrambled to his feet, dusting off his robes.

"I'm Serena. I apologize we met under such bloody circumstances." She glanced at the nearby bodies. "We're not big fans of Loghain's."

"Who is?" Alim replied, shrugging. "You... aren't going to kill me, are you?"

"No, I'm not going to kill you." Serena sheathed her daggers, nodding to Alistair and Zevran to do the same. "You said you were earning a bit of coin? How did you go about that, exactly?"

"I was hiding out in Denerim, and when Kin- err, Loghain found out me and my fellow were mages, he set us to work for him, in exchange for... things." The elf glanced at his boots, his tan skin burning a deep red. "My friend was caught doing blood magic, you see, and I was an unwitting accomplice, so we ran from the Tower, otherwise, I'd still be there..."

"_Blood_ magic?" Alistair exchanged significant glances with Serena, but she shook her head.

Alim looked panicked at that. "I wasn't doing blood magic, though! It was Jowan, I just-"

"Jowan? Your friend is Jowan?" Serena pursed her lips. Ferelden seemed to be getting smaller and smaller by the day.

"You... know him?"

"Oh yes, Jowan and I go way back," Serena quipped. "He was caught at Redcliffe Castle, trying to poison Arl Eamon."

"Oh, bloody..." The elf rolled two vibrantly green eyes. "The man has no sense at all. He's lucky Gregoir didn't skin him alive back at the Tower. Is he... still alive?"

"I had him spared," Serena said. "He's back at the Tower by now, I'd imagine. In exchange for the arl's mercy, Jowan agreed to help us battle the Blight when we march."

"Well, I'll do that, too! You said you're Grey Wardens, right? Well, I'll help you battle, uh, darkspawn, I guess."

Alistair snorted. "He's certainly eager, isn't he?"

"Eager to get out of a swift death, more like." Morrigan stepped forward, scowling. "We aren't seriously thinking of taking this elf with us, are we?"

"He's a _mage_, Morrigan," Serena said, as if that should settle it. She turned back to the elven man. "Can you heal at all?"

"Yes, but I'm really more of a entropic mage..."

"Perfect." Serena grinned at Morrigan, who had crossed her arms over chest, looking haughty. "I don't know what that means, but it sounds great."

"He can cast spells like paralyze," Wynne clarified. "By drawing entropic energy to him, he can control a target's energy, even causing them to miss opposing targets completely." She smiled at the elven man. "Surana... I believe you were in one of my lectures, weren't you?"

"Yes, senior enchanter," the man said with a nod.

"Since it seems like we'll be traveling together now, you can call me Wynne if I can call you Alim-"

"And where should he sleep, I wonder?" Morrigan interrupted. "We cannot dally everywhere we go, Serena, picking up stray dogs and the like."

"I was thinking he'd share _your_ tent, in fact," Serena snapped, her humor evaporating at the witch's use of words. The man had just been insulted by the guard, he didn't need to be called a dog by a complete stranger. "Maker's breath, Morrigan. He's a fellow mage! How can you be so obtuse as to not see his usefulness to us?"

"I... I simply worry of our dwindling supplies, 'tis all," the dark haired witch replied, a slight blush coming to her cheeks.

"I'm pretty well stocked anyway," Alim added, glancing nervously between the two women. "I have my own tent and everything, so... I can just go grab my pack from our tent and we can be off..."

"Yeah, uh, you go do that," Alistair said, eyeing Serena and Morrigan warily. "Actually... I'll help you..." He rushed off with the mage, glancing over his shoulder.

"He's coming with us," Serena repeated firmly. She glanced at the others, her eyebrow raised in question, but nobody else appeared to have any objections to the mage. Alim and Alistair returned quickly enough, and they headed back up the steps to where the gates to Orzammar loomed above.

"Nice show there, Warden," the lead guard said, his beard twitching into a smile. "You've done us a great service. That fool Imrek was up here barking for a week... Are all humans so touched?"

"Not all, but most," Serena replied, smirking.

The dwarf nodded, still smiling faintly as he motioned the group by. "You are free to enter Orzammar... though I don't know what help you will find."


	58. Chapter 58

**Author's Note:** Because it always bears repeating: Thanks everyone following along and especially those of you taking the time to review. I love hearing your opinions and critiques.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 58<span> - _Fire Down Below_

The halls of Orzammar were unlike anything Serena had ever seen. Stairs led down into a massive chamber, carved straight into the earth itself, and packed hard with stone. Enormous statues of what Serena assumed were the dwarven kings, stood carved right out of the walls, as if they held up the ceilings above with their sheer might.

Beyond the great hall, which a guardsman announced as the Hall of Heroes, a bridge led to the main chamber of Orzammar proper. Upon entering, Serena felt her jaw drop open. The city was larger than even Denerim, running for miles in front of them, and it was all… underground. Rivers of lava followed beneath the bridge, and Serena removed her cloak, tucking it away in her pack. It felt like late summer in here, with the heat of the flows rising up from below.

Dwarves bustled around them, heading in and out of buildings, but always throwing a curious glance their way. Serena supposed the sight of a handful of humans, two elves, a kossith and a mabari hound would confuse even people on the surface, much less a group of people who were used to seeing only other dwarves, day after day after day.

Ahead, a large group of dwarves stood milling about in a group, surrounding two men.

"You'd think they'd stand on something at least," Alistair murmured as they came close.

"It is the Assembly who makes a king, and a king who nominates his successor. None of it is carried in the blood." An older dwarf with a large graying beard tied up into formal braids was speaking to the crowd. Around him some of the dwarves were nodding to one another. Serena noticed most of them were well-dressed and graying on top.

"Or, as now," a younger blonde dwarf challenged. "When someone tries using the Assembly to pull a coup. Who's to say what my father said in his final hours when the usurper Harrowmont was the only one by his side?" Still more dwarves were nodding at this man's pronouncement as guards took their places, readying themselves for a riot.

"I'll have you thrown in prison!" the older man shouted.

"You've bitten off more than you can chew, old man!" the young blonde cried.

"Handlers, separate these deshyrs in the Diamond Quarter!" A ruddy-faced dwarf threw out his hands between the two, although Serena noticed he bore the same symbol on his armor as the older dwarf, Harrowmont. "I will not have Bhelen incite a riot!"

Another dwarf leaped forward and she heard a collective gasp as he pulled a large axe from his back. "You'll not speak that way about the man who should be king!" With a great pull, he swung the axe wide and landed it right in the Harrowmont supporter, stabbing him deep. The man cried out once before succumbing to his wounds. Around him, the crowd quickly dispersed; even some of the guards ran for it, abandoning the dead man in the streets.

"Oh sweet Maker, that was-"

"_Brutal_." Alim stood next to Serena, his staff out as he leaned against it, shaking his head. His large dark eyes were focused on the body. "Reminds me of the Tower."

"Stone-blind idiots! I won't have fighting in the commons!" A dwarf clad in the armor of the city guard ran past them, clanking loudly as he headed for the dead dwarf's body. "Especially in front of outsiders... If I find that sodding fool, I'll have him in the Legion!" Noticing Serena's group finally, he pulled himself up to his full height, which wasn't much taller, and puffed his chest out importantly.

"Veata, surfacers! I am Rehtek, the Captain of the Guard here in Orzammar. I am bid to let you walk the Commons, but... keep your place. Wardens or not, I want _order_."

"Could you point us in the direction of the Assembly?" Serena asked, as politely as she could manage. The Captain was unexpectedly bitter sounding. Granted, if Serena was in charge of a city where bloodletting in the streets was commonplace, she imagined she would have a few choice words of warning for strangers as well. "We have a treaty with the dwarven people, to help us in the time of a Blight."

"A Blight? Bah. More surface problems," the Captain huffed. He ran a hand through his already unruly brown hair and scowled. "Well, we have no king to hear you. You can join the shouting at the Assembly in the Diamond Quarter, that's right up that way." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Bunch of deshyr lords bickering over sand. Bhelen, Harrowmont... is one so different? Certainly no Paragons here."

"I'm sorry... What's a Paragon?"

"Surfacers appoint no Paragons? Truly you are lost in all that sky." Rehtek rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "They are the best of us, declared living ancestors."

"Oh, so the statues..."

"Yes, yes, those are only some of our great Paragons." The dwarf waved his hand, as if Serena were slow and he had better things to do than explain the complexities of dwarven society to her. "If you're looking to actually be heard, you should probably look for Vartag Gavorn, he's Prince Bhelen's second. Or Dulin Forender, he speaks for Lord Harrowmont."

"And they're the two men edging for the throne? Prince Bhelen-"

"Yes, Bhelen Aeducan, the surviving son of King Endrin, before you ask. Vartag can be found in the Assembly, most likely. As for Dulin, he's probably at Harrowmont's estate. That's also in the Diamond Quarter, along with all the other rich duffers. If there's nothing else..."

"Ah, no," Serena replied, curtsying to the Captain. "Thank you very much for all your help."

"Not sure how much help I was, but luck be with you, Warden."

* * *

><p>They were on their way to the Diamond Quarter to look for this Vartag fellow when Serena was stopped by a young girl waving her down.<p>

"Excuse me... I, um, do you... have a moment?"

Serena could hear Morrigan sigh heavily and she waved the party on with a quick "I'll meet you outside the Assembly, if you could find Vartag...?" She saw the witch roll her golden eyes but nod, leading the others on while Serena turned to the redhead dwarf.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm Dagna, maybe you know my father? Janar of the Smith Caste? Anyway, I've been trying forever to find someone who really knows the surface world," the girl explained. Her hands flew in wide circular gestures at every word she spoke. "I don't suppose you've heard of something called "The Circle"?"

"The Circle of Magi?" Alim had stayed back apparently, and spoke up from behind Serena. "I'm an enchanter in the Ferelden Circle." He grinned sheepishly. "Well, _most_ of the time, anyway."

"Really? It's... an honor!" the girl gushed with happiness, as if this was the single most exciting moment of her life. For his part, Alim smiled, looking slightly bemused at her enthusiasm. Most people treated mages with abject terror, so this was probably a welcome relief to him.

"I've never met an _actual _mage… or an elf," the redhead continued, eyeing Alim's interesting haircut. "Is it true you can manipulate nature's forces with your mind? Like you were born with lyrium in your veins?"

"I... uh... well, yes," Alim stuttered. "Although, it's not as easy as all that, of course. There's lots of studying, and meditation, and you have to constantly be on guard-"

"I think she put it better with all the flash and bang," Serena said with a grin. "So, pardon me for saying so, but why would a dwarf be interested in the Circle?"

"I've been trying to reach someone there for years," Dagna explained. "I've sent missives with every caravan, but I never get a reply. I want to know if they would accept me for study."

"Uhh... I don't see why they wouldn't, I suppose."

"Dwarves can't do magic, Serena," Alim whispered.

"I guess she's never read First Enchanter Caethelun's 'Treatise Concerning Dwarves and the Non-Heritability of Magic'," Dagna added.

"And you have?" Alim asked, surprised. "That thing is nearly eight hundred pages."

"Not the unabridged version! It's nearly two thousand!" the dwarf replied happily. "He tested dwarves from _twenty_ bloodlines and found they couldn't perform any level of spell casting, regardless of lyrium exposure or time on the surface. The Circle speculates that lyrium in the Stone shields us from spiritual influences and over time, made us immune to them."

Serena laughed. "Did you memorize that? I mean, I like reading, but... wow."

"I could have used you when I was studying for my Harrowing," Alim said. "So, if you're aware you cannot perform magic, why do you want to go there?"

"I want to go to the Circle to study!" The girl looked at her boots before shyly looking back up at Alim. Serena smiled as she saw a blush color the young girls cheeks, though whether it was from embarrassment or something else, she couldn't tell. "I don't want to do magic. No dwarf can cast spells, but I don't see why I shouldn't study it... It could be like an exchange. Orzammar would learn of one of the greatest natural forces on the surface, and the Circle gains direct access to our knowledge of lyrium smithing."

"Well, we're heading to the Circle to gather allies in two weeks time. How about if your father lets you, you can come along with us and ask them yourself?"

"That would be... wonderful! I've never left Orzammar, and even if they didn't accept me for study, it would still be an amazing adventure..." Dagna's blue eyes went wide as she nearly swooned with happiness. "Oh, I'll go pack my bags right now! I'll be waiting in my father's shop!" With a giddy little squeal the girl ran off, disappearing into a nearby shop.

"Um, I did say two weeks time, didn't I?" Serena asked, dark eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"You did," Alim confirmed. "She's just... well, she's young, I suppose. I hope the Circle doesn't disappoint her." He glanced over at Serena as they headed up the staircase to the Diamond Quarter. "Have you ever been to the Circle of Magi?"

"Ohhhh yes. A few months back, we went there looking for help for a possessed child, back at Redcliffe," Serena explained. "The boy had inadvertently summoned a desire demon to help his father after Jowan's little stunt. By the time we reached the Tower, the place had been overrun with abominations, taking mages and templars hostage. Some nutcase named Uldred was behind it-"

"Wait, _you're_ the ones who defeated Uldred? I'd heard about that all the way in Denerim!" Alim grinned broadly, one of the first smiles Serena had seen on the elf. "You saved Irving, didn't you? Maker, you saved the whole bloody Circle!"

"More or less, yes," Serena said, smiling shyly. "That's when Wynne joined us, and probably why Morrigan was so... annoyed earlier, with me. She doesn't like how I 'pick up stray dogs' as she puts it. When we started this, it was just me, Morrigan, and Alistair."

"So you aren't all Grey Wardens then?"

"No, just Alistair and I are. But if people want to assume we all are, we don't really... challenge the notion," Serena said quietly. "Being a Grey Warden offers a bit of politically neutral protection, especially for the mages who travel in our company. You know how some templars can be about mages wandering around outside the Circle..."

"Oh, do I," Alim said with a nod. "Isn't that man... Alistair... isn't he a templar? He dispelled my magic back there. Scared the dickens right out of me, if you don't mind me saying so. Even six months out of the Tower and I still get all nervous around them."

"Well, we thought you were one of Loghain's... Anyway, it's true Alistair was trained as a templar by Chantry, but he was recruited by the Grey Wardens before he could take his final vows," Serena explained. "He's rather fond of magic, actually, as long as it doesn't get too... bloody... if you receive my meaning."

"Yes, well, know I'm not a big fan of cutting myself to use my own life force as fuel for dark magic." Alim's dark eyes rolled to the ceiling. "I'm just fine using lyrium, despite the taste." He grinned. "Regardless, I want to say that this is certainly more fun than I've had in weeks."

"Which speaks poorly of supposed King Loghain's hospitality, hmm?"

"Considering I was locked in a cell for two weeks with a group of elves from the Alienage before they realized I was a mage, and thus, could be _used_... yeah, it stinks pretty bad. I'm surprised they didn't put us in Fort Drakon and leave us to rot."

"What were you doing in a cell?"

"I was hiding in the Alienage... I mean, an elf in the alienage, who would look twice at that, right? It seemed like a good idea at the time. I have family there, anyway, a second cousin." Alim shrugged, running a hand over his spiky hair. "There was some celebration, a wedding I think, I'd never seen a wedding, they don't allow them in the Circle, so I thought I'd take a peek. Then these men storm the Alienage... someone said it was the Arl of Denerim's _son_, but I don't know about that. I'd never seem 'em before."

"Anyway, they grab a bunch of the women and run for it! I couldn't just stand there and do nothing; one of the women had sheltered me from a templar who was sniffing around the Alienage, so I went with the groom and some of the other men and we... uh..." Alim looked at his boots. "We tried to storm the arl's estate."

"And thus, the cell." She could just imagine how well that probably went- a bunch of unarmed elven men, hellbent on revenge...

"Yes. It… didn't go so well." The elf sighed heavily. "We got pretty far in, I casted a powerful Misdirection Hex... I think Nelaros even found some of the girls, although I don't really know what happened after that... I was hit with a blast of ice and got knocked out... Woke up in the dungeons with Soris and a few others. Jowan was already there, he'd been picked up near Dragon's Peak..." Serena nodded, not knowing who any of these people were, but sensing that Alim felt guilty about it nonetheless and needed to talk. "They're... probably still in there, actually. Well, except Jowan, of course."

"I'm sure you did all you could, Alim," Serena said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps we could find out what happened, next time we're in Denerim. We have to go there after we wrap up all this treaty business, anyway."

"If we could, I'd… like that very much," Alim said softly. "Anyway, there are your friends."

"Serena, there you are!" Alistair waved to her. "So, Morrigan didn't want to wait, color me shocked, so we already spoke to that Vartag fellow. Turns out the treaty only compels the _king_ to help, and since they don't have one..." Alistair trailed off, shrugging sheepishly.

"So, how do we do this? Convince the Assembly to elect someone?"

"Well, he says he'll give us an audience with Prince Bhelen if we deliver two notes to some lord something or other. According to Vartag, Harrowmont is bribing nobles for their votes." Alistair rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised they don't have us assassinating other candidates outright, honestly. Dwarven politics are vicious!"

"Well, who are the notes for?"

"Lady... Dance and Lord Happy? I honestly can't remember. Leliana and Zevran left to go deliver them already." He smiled crookedly. "Morrigan's doing, I swear."

"Well, whatever gets it done, I suppose." Serena laughed. "I find it hard to believe _anyone_ in Orzammar goes by Lady Dance or Lord Happy, though."

"Perhaps a bit of wishful thinking on my part, then," Alistair replied. "So what did the redhead want?"

"Oh, she just wanted to marvel over our newest companion's rippling muscles. They don't get a lot of elven mages down here, I suppose." At Alim's bewildered expression, Serena grinned. "Joke! That was a _joke_, Alim. We make those sometimes, Alistair and I." She turned back to Alistair. "The girl wants to study magic at the Circle, so she asked if we could pass the request along. I told her we'd do her one better and bring her to the Circle ourselves."

"Oh, the swamp witch is going to _hate_ that."

"Morrigan hates everything, last time I checked."

"At least these foolish tasks are getting us closer to ending the Blight," Sten grumbled from nearby.

"Yes, no talking trees, no abominations, no werewolves, no cultists, and _no_ dragons." Serena ticked off the creatures on her fingers. "This might be the easiest treaty yet if we just have to run errands for a prince."

"You didn't really run into all those things, did you?" Alim asked. The elf seemed caught between disbelief and wonder. "Werewolves and dragons and such?"

"Oh yes," Alistair said. "We killed a high dragon. You know, as practice for the archdemon."

"Is this another joke?" The elf looked between the three of them, as if they were putting him on. "You're just... just messing with me, aren't you?"

"No." Sten pushed up the sleeve on his shirt. "This is a burn I got from one of them, it has taken awhile to heal. The Wardens also received significant injuries."

"Cut my leg wide open," Serena muttered. "Worth it, though." She pulled the high dragon's tooth out of the bunch of necklaces she wore at her neck, grinning proudly. "See?"

Alim whistled low at the sight of the long fang. "So, I'm not sure I caught everyone's names just yet-"

"Oh, I'm so sorry! How rude of me." Serena gestured to herself. "I'm Serena, but you knew that. This is Alistair, he's the other Grey Warden, and this giant is Sten."

"I am not a giant. You are just woefully small."

"Right, that _must_ be it," Serena said sarcastically. "Anyway, you know Wynne. The other elven man that's traveling with us, that's Zevran, he's from Antiva. That's why every word he says sounds like he's trying to get in your pants."

"He's also probably going to try to get in your pants," Alistair added, winking.

"Then the redhead is Leliana," Serena continued. She pointed surreptitiously over to the wall. "That angry-looking dark haired young woman is Morrigan, and _this_... is Peanut." Serena's mabari let out a happy bark before moving to snuffle at Alim's robes.

Alim leaned down, scratching the hound between the ears. "Peanut? As in... like... a peanut?"

"Wait until you see what he'll _do_ for one," Alistair said. He turned to Serena, his honey colored eyes pleading. "Can I?"

"Oh, why not? It's not like we have anything better to do." Serena dug into her belt purse and dropped a few of the nuts into Alistair's hand. Immediately, Peanut began to swing his miniature tail back and forth, as if he could smell the tiny kernels clasped in the blonde's hand.

"Can you... do a little dance, boy?" Alistair asked. In response, Peanut began turning around in circles, his big rump wagging as if in time to music.

"How about if you... sing me a song?" They watched entranced as the hound began to howl, long and low, in a haunting canine melody.

"Ugh, not this _again_," Morrigan called, disgust reading clearly on her face. "Must you torture the mutt?"

"He's earning his reward," the former templar shot back. "Okay, last one. Can you show me who's your favorite human?" Peanut let out a gleeful bark before shoving his flat head under Serena's hand, who was shaking with laughter. "I believe you earned three, fine ser." Alistair tossed the nuts into the hounds' waiting jaws, bowing slightly before turning back to Alim. "Pretty amazing, huh? I want to teach him the Remigold when we get some spare time."

"That dog would certainly be better at it than _you_, Alistair. He is _supposed_ to have two left feet." Morrigan rolled her eyes and stalked off to lean against the wall, although Serena could see she had the tiniest smile on her lips. "And that fool arl wants to put _him_ on the throne... unbelievable..."

"She's usually in a better mood than this, Alim," Serena said apologetically.

"No, she really isn't," Alistair replied, crossing his arms over his chest. Serena stuck her tongue out at him just as Zevran returned to their group, grinning broadly.

"Our new friend Vartag now has Lord Helmi in his pocket," the assassin said proudly. "He was drinking away his house's considerable amount of coin in the local tavern. A delightful little hovel called Tapsters."

"That must be Lord Happy, eh?" Serena glanced at Alistair and grinned as a blush crept up the blonde's neck under her gaze. "By chance, did you see Leliana at all?"

"She isn't back? We split up when I headed for the tavern to track down Helmi, but she only needed to go so far as the Diamond Quarter-" Zevran peered around the group, as if the redheaded bard were simply hiding from his view. "I assumed she would have returned before me."

"Well, we'll give her five more minutes and then I'll go look for this Lady Dance myself."

Zevran raised an eyebrow. "Lady Dance?"

"Long story," Serena replied.

"Oh, I love a good story!" Leliana said, coming up the stairs. "Who is it about?"

"Just a dwarf we met who _really_ likes to party." Serena motioned to the rest of the party to follow. "Let's just go and meet this prince."


	59. Chapter 59

**Author's Note:** Wow. 100 reviews! Thanks everyone who's taken the time over the past few weeks to read this story! I am truly humbled by your response. The pace has slowed just a tiny bit as I'm prepping another one-shot, as well as a separate story for next month's NaNoWriMo. Updates will be Monday, Wednesday, Friday now.

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><p><span>Chapter 59<span> - _A __Brother __in __Peril_

While Orzammar on the whole appeared built out of magnificent buildings, the Royal Palace was in a league of its own. As Vartag led them through the halls, Serena found herself marveling at the feats created by dwarven engineering. In place of paintings, the walls glittered with exposed quartz in radiant blues, purples and yellows. Great stone designs decorated the upper facade of the passageways, geometric and powerful. Lush carpets covered the stone floors, making their entrance quiet, despite the ten pairs of feet now trudging their way down the hall.

Vartag pushed open a giant metal door at the end of the hall, gesturing the party inside. Inside, the room was lined with bookcases, each containing hundreds of books each that sadly put the Arl's study to shame. A large writing table sat in the middle of the room, where a stocky blonde dwarf, the one from the courtyard argument, sat scribbling out a missive. Upon their entrance, he looked up and smiled.

"I find myself impressed with you Wardens." The man rose easily from his desk, his movements were the practiced motions of a lifelong royal. Behind him a painting of an older man, the late King Endrin presumably, from his obvious crown, stared down at them. "Not many outsiders so quickly grasp Orzammar's rather... _convoluted_ politics."

"I, as I'm sure you must have guessed, am Prince Bhelen."

Serena curtsied to the man, bowing her head politely. "I am Warden-Commander Serena Cousland, and these are my companions and fellow Wardens. A pleasure to meet you, at last."

"Ah, yes, I apologize for Vartag's protectiveness, you cannot be too careful in these trying times." The Prince smiled at his steward, who was standing stoically in the corner, watching the proceedings with a pensive expression. "I must thank you for adding two more voices in favor of my ascension to the throne. While Lord Harrowmont was a trusted advisor to my father, he has spent his life in the Assembly. He knows only how to lead through compromise and capitulation. That is not what Orzammar needs."

"The darkspawn are amassing for a Blight," Bhelen continued, shaking his head. "I've heard scout reports that the lands topside have already been torn apart in the south... we cannot spend precious time arguing over the next king when we should be preparing to stop the darkspawn horde. Our kingdom has lost too much already to those monsters."

"I wholeheartedly agree, your highness," Serena replied, dipping another curtsy. "That is why we've come here, to humbly request dwarven aid against the Blight."

"Of course if I were King, I would give it to you immediately. The Assembly meets tomorrow, and with your help, I hope to secure the nomination quickly and end this stalemate. Lord Helmi and House Dace have already pledged their renewed allegiance to me, but I wonder if I couldn't trouble you for another favor." Bhelen moved to his desk, pulling out an old piece of parchment.

"The dwarven people are divided by a system known as castes. Each caste perform a service, the Warrior caste houses many of our finest fighters, the Smith caste our finest artisans, et cetera. The lower castes, while somewhat looked down upon, are nothing compared to what we call the 'casteless.'"

Serena found herself nodding absently at the prince, her mind beginning to wander during the dwarf's exhaustive explanation of Orzammar society. Staring at his face, she wondered if it took him very long to style his beard into such an intricate pattern of braids.

"They are families, _people_, born without a rank, with no jobs to do. Many turn to crime, and unfortunately, they have begun to amass quite a following in the area referred to as Dust Town." He tapped a section of the map with a thick finger.

"The carta must be shut down, not simply because to do so would save many lives and numerous coin, but, well, this is a bit personal." Bhelen looked to Vartag, who nodded encouragingly. "My... brother-in-law was casteless, you see, before his sister bore me a son. My gathered intelligence has led me to believe he is being held by the carta's leader, a vicious woman named Jarvia, possibly for ransom. If you could recover Faren for us, as well as eliminate the carta for good... well, I would be in an excellent position tomorrow at the Assembly, with you Wardens as my champions."

"Of course, your highness." Serena exchanged quick looks with Alistair. He looked just as exasperated as she felt about being used to do the prince's drudgery, but was it really that much different than the elves? Or the templars? She sighed. "We'll head to... Dust Town and see what we can uncover."

"Thank you, Commander. I hope you find Faren in... good health." He grimaced slightly, turning to Vartag. "Please show them out and provide the Commander with a map of Orzammar and anything else they will need. I'll have Rica set aside rooms for the evening upon their return."

"Of course." Vartag bowed his dark head to the prince, and then led Serena and the others out again. Behind them, Bhelen began to pace.

"The Prince underplays it, Commander, but Faren's safety is our utmost concern in this," Vartag explained. "The sooner you can find him, the better." He handed her a roll of parchment and shook her hand. "May the Stone guide you true, Commander."

* * *

><p>"<em>Commander<em> now, is it?" Alistair grinned crookedly, his eyebrows practically in his hair.

"He's a prince, I thought it might... help us command a bit more respect than just 'Warden'. Plus, I sort of am the Warden-Commander, since you didn't want it..." Serena pushed at him playfully. "Bet you're regretting that now, hmm?"

"Hardly," Alistair replied. "Bastard prince is enough for me, thank you very much. So I imagine I have to start calling you Commander, eh?"

Serena grinned. "Only when we're around company, dear."

"And so now we're running errands for the dwarves." Morrigan's voice was uncharacteristically flat as she walked beside them, as if she already knew arguing against it would be fighting a losing battle. Serena noticed Alistair fall back to speak with Zevran; he was still avoiding the witch, apparently.

"It would appear so." Serena glanced sidelong at the witch. "It isn't like we have anything better to do. The Assembly doesn't meet until tomorrow, and I don't know... you look like you've been itching for a good fight anyway."

"I am simply growing tired of being Daisy Do-Gooder, Serena," the witch snapped. "Perhaps you and the human noisemaker enjoy helping people for the sake of it, but it is against my basic instincts to simply go around assisting every person who comes crawling out of the woodwork."

"I suppose you have a point," Serena conceded. "Wait. Did you just refer to Leliana as a human noisemaker?"

Morrigan smirked. "Caught that, did you?"

"Just barely." Serena rolled her eyes as they picked up the pace heading back into the area called The Commons. Even now, she could hear Leliana strumming softly on her lute as she walked. "It's good to see you not frowning for awhile, at least. Even if it's at the expense of our pride."

"She has heard worse, surely, playing in filthy taverns and such," the witch replied. "Anyway, you bade me tell you if I found anything of interest in my mother's grimoire."

"Oh yes! I did say that. I guess it's been a few weeks so I forgot. What have you found?"

"Flemeth taught me many spells, as you know, but her book contains a few... enhancements, I suppose you could call them. For example, I have now learned how to use lightning in a way that it will fork off one body to strike another." Morrigan held up her hands, rubbing them together excitedly. "Shall I do a demonstration?"

Serena glanced around quickly. "Ah, no, maybe not right... here. Perhaps when we reach the surface and there's a big open glade we can, uh... set aflame-"

"News of the hour: Lord Harrowmont entrenched in the past! How long can he ignore that Orzammar must _change_ to survive?" A brown haired dwarf with a thick grizzled beard was shouting loudly as they passed by. "Prince Bhelen is the voice of change and defense! Lord Harrowmont is the voice of stagnation and ruin!"

"Well, 'twould seem we chose wisely then," Morrigan drawled, rolling her eyes at the crier. "I cannot imagine how I would feel lying awake at night thinking we supported the voice of stagnation and ruin for these tiny, tiny people."

"They ought to support whichever candidate can reach things from the top-most shelves," Zevran remarked, strolling along at the witch's other side. "Or perhaps whomever has the most ladders?"

"I heard another dwarf back the ways say something like 'Lord Bhelen eats puppies, support Harrowmont for king.'" Alistair grinned. "I thought dwarves just ate those little pink pig things?"

Serena giggled. "What pig things?"

"You know, those little... oh, there's one!" Alistair pointed to a strange pinkish animal, halfway between a pig and rabbit. "They're all over the damn place, hiding behind garbage bins and things. I don't know how you could have missed them. They squeak like mad."

"Charming," Morrigan said, scowling at the animal. "'Tis the equivalent of eating cats from the streets of Denerim."

"Nah... have you seen Denerim's cats? They're very scrawny. No meat on those bones." Alistair glanced over his shoulder at the pink animal. "I heard they taste like chicken, actually."

They had only walked a few more paces into the Commons before they stepped right into the middle of two shouting dwarves.

"It'll be two years tomorrow! By all the holy sodding ancestors, how can you people just _ignore_ that?"

"Branka didn't go alone, Oghren. She took the whole house! Everybody but... _you_." The second dwarf crossed his arms smugly over his chest, as if he'd just made some significant point. "So just get over to Tapsters and drown yourself already. You know as well as I do that's how this always ends, anyway."

The ginger haired dwarf, Oghren, grunted in reply, his face flushing angrily. "You think I'm afraid of some... cub warrior who's barely off the teat? Ha! I'll-"

"You lift a weapon, or attack a single citizen in Orzammar, and I'll have you stripped of your caste, you hear me? Exiled!" The stockier man was bellowing now, his patience long gone, and Serena and her companions looked at one another uneasily. "Even _you_ can't have forgotten that! Now get out of here before I call a guardsman!"

Oghren made a rude hand gesture at the blonde before stalking off, banging his great sword against a group of bins as he passed by. A few more of the pinkish bunny-pigs hopped out in alarm, squeaking wildly. "Sodding nug-licker!" the dwarf called back over his shoulder.

"Nugs!" Alistair smacked his hand to his forehead. "_That's_ what they're called."

* * *

><p>"If this carta is so secret, how do we, uh, go about finding out way in?" Alistair glanced around them, his eyes flipping up from the piece of parchment Vartag had given them. "Dust Town is just over there, if this glob on the map is any indication, but it looks nearly as big as the Commons here..."<p>

"We could ask around, perhaps?" Leliana suggested. "Surely someone knows of this Jarvia woman."

"And get a knife in the back for our trouble, I imagine," Zevran said. "If she runs the carta, it's with an iron fist, and I doubt anyone would be willing to open up to a bunch of strangers for fear of losing a tongue." The assassin paused, his face looking thoughtful. "Our best bet is to find someone who has been run out of the carta, I think. They would have a chip on their shoulder, and could maybe be persuaded by coin."

"We could persuade them by steel if coin doesn't work," Sten said.

Serena rolled her eyes. "Haven't killed anything in a few hours, eh, Sten?" The giant's mouth quirked slightly and Serena smiled. It was nearly impossible to get any emotion out of the huge man, other than disdain, of course, which he supplied in mass quantities.

"So, I've been hearing rumors that a certain wine merchant is falling behind on his payments." A tough-looking dwarf and his associates pushed past their group, singling out an older man who was sweeping the front of his shop.

"I do not even want to think from what manner of substance a cave-dwelling people would create their spirits," Morrigan murmured disgustedly, glancing over at the group. Her golden eyes snapped between the old man and the younger thuggish-looking dwarves and Serena found herself drawn there by the witch's interest alone. Morrigan never found the common goings-on of a city interesting, unless it involved violence.

"I... can't imagine what you mean," the gray haired dwarf replied, shaking slightly. The sign above him said 'Gadnar's Finest Liquors'. Serena guessed he must be Gadnar. "I pay my expenses-"

"What about the expenses your good friend Jarvia incurs when providing your protection?" the thug countered. "It's not easy ensuring nothing bad happens, that no one decides to just... burn everything in your store..."

"My store!" Gadnar cried. "I don't have much. Business isn't so good... people are scared... T-tell Jarvia I'll get her money, I-"

"Jarvia's not happy with your promises, old man," the thug said, and the menace in his voice was palpable. "Now, let's go inside and see what you've been holding back." Without another word, the thugs pushed the old man back into his shop roughly.

"Did he say Jarvia?" Serena whispered.

"He did, indeed," Morrigan confirmed, nodding. "'Tis our lucky day, 'twould seem."

"For once." Serena put out a hand, signaling the group to stop. "Morrigan, Alistair, Alim, come with me." She pointed around the side. "Zevran, take everyone else in through the back, I don't want them getting out." The elf nodded, leading them quickly around the side of the building.

"What are we planning on doing?" Alistair asked.

"Why, we're going to get ourselves a little information."

* * *

><p>Putting her ear to the door, Serena could hear the older dwarf inside. There was loud crash of some bottles falling, or being thrown, to the floor.<p>

"T-this is all I have right now!" Gadnar's muffled voice begged. "I could get more, maybe, if I sell something, but-"

"Oh, enough of this," Serena muttered, pushing the door open. The shop was relatively large, with a tiny bell that rang to alert Gadnar to potential customers.

"Well, well. Looks like we have some visitors." The dark haired dwarf eyed Serena and the others, his facial tattoos making him look even more menacing than his thick armor. "Friends of yours, Gadnar?"

Alistair stepped forward then, and Serena could see his height intimidated the thugs, if only just. "Is there a problem here, friend? Are these men threatening you?"

"Oh, please! Don't get involved with this!" Gadnar looked from Alistair to the tattooed leader. "You d-don't know what they're like!"

"Then allow me to make some introductions," the thug growled. "These are dangerous times in Orzammar, stranger. Lucky us, the merciful Jarvia is offering protection from the chaos." His beady eyes flickered to Serena. "You're wearing some fancy stuff there. Might make you a target."

"A target for who? This Jarvia woman?" Serena strolled up the thug, who she easily had a foot on, at least. "Should I be frightened of a woman who sends minions like you to scare poor merchants in exchange for what I'm sure is probably only protection from _you_?"

"You've got a _big_ mouth, girly," the thug replied. He pulled a short knife from his gauntlet, and Serena found herself marveling at the brilliance of keeping a blade so close. She'd never thought to keep one hidden in her glove... "Maybe you ought to keep it shut unless you want me to cut it a bit wider for you?"

"I'm more interested in seeing _you_ talk, actually." Serena pulled her own dagger, the tip shining brightly right in the dwarf's face. "You might even live after this, who can say?"

"That sounded like a threat," the thug scoffed, his eyes on Serena's blade. "Am I supposed to be frightened of a walking stick like you?"

Alistair laughed. "Quite truthfully... yes. You should be."

"Fat chance, cloudhead. I'm gonna carve up your lady here like a nug." The dwarf slid the tiny dagger in his hand and thrust it forward towards Serena. She moved to block as an arrow flew through the air, skewering the advancing man through the eye. Gadnar yelled, diving to the floor behind his register as Serena stepped back, the dwarf falling forward at her feet.

"Excellent shot, Leliana," she called over her shoulder. Serena grinned savagely at the remaining thugs. "Now, who wants to tell me where I can find Jarvia, and who wants to end up a pincushion like your little friend here?"

* * *

><p>Jarvia's reach ended up extending all over the area called Dust Town. After what seemed like an excessive display of force, namely three more dead dwarves, Jarvia's remaining minion had broken down and thrust over a small token, a key, that had been fashioned out of a dead dwarf's finger bone.<p>

"Our tiny little friend said the carta switches entrances often, so perhaps we should just... try whatever makeshift door we find with a finger-shaped hole in it?" Alistair glanced around, his face scrunched up in distaste. "Lovely place, really. The uh, _blood_ really improves the decor."

Dust Town itself was not an actual part of Orzammar proper, built to cordon off the casteless from the rest of the city, but rather a series of tunnels, reclaimed from the mines and converted to a near shanty-town. Beggars scrabbled into corners as they passed, like insects scattering from the light of day. The buildings, those of which that still stood anyway, were pot-marked with damage from fights and street brawls.

"If ever there was a seedy underbelly to a city, it is this Dust Town. Notice how the street goes from relatively clean carved stone to simply... packed dirt? Oh, and the smell." Zevran breathed deep. "Yes... yes, that is really quite horrible."

Alim laughed though his dark eyes were thoughtful. "This honestly makes the Tower look like a palace. I wish I could paint a picture of it to take back to my friends..." He shook his head. "It is truly disturbing to see how bad things can get."

"Ah, you didn't see the tower when there were abominations running about it. Now _that _was bad," Alistair said, grimacing. "Big, bloody postules growing up the sides of walls... demonic goo everywhere... Burned up husks of bodies just lying on the floors..."

"Templars cowering in fear, or else under the spell of desire demons, ready to suck out their souls through their mouth." Morrigan flashed a savage grin at the two men. "Sounds like fun now."

"And the moral of that story is: Don't do blood magic," Serena said. "Or you get your soul sucked out by Morrigan."

"Which sounds terrible, indeed," Zevran replied, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at the witch. "Are you quite positive you wouldn't suck my soul out of anything else?"

"Watch your tongue, elf, I bite."

"Even better!" the assassin called playfully, running his fingers along a wall carefully. Serena assumed he was searching for a notch in which to place the finger bone token.

"I wonder if Orzammar has a brothel?" Serena murmured. "Sounds like you lot have some issues you need to work out."

"Not all of us engage in such _rigorous_ nightly workouts, Serena," Zevran countered, his amber eyes flashing. He pitched his voice higher, mocking Serena's much more feminine tones. "Oh, Alistair... You're the _sexiest_ Grey Warden I've ever... oh, sweet Maker!"

Serena laughed, though her cheeks were bright red in embarrassment. "How else are we supposed to stay in shape, hmm?" She saddled up to Alistair, slipping her hand into his. He remained silent, appearing to take the moral high road in this discussion; although Serena thought more likely he couldn't come up with a good comeback to their teasing yet. His cheeks were nearly as red as hers as he squeezed her hand back.

"Nobody needs _that _much exercise," said Leliana, smiling at the pair.

Morrigan scoffed. "You have never watched them eat then. 'Tis like two famished horses back from a ride..."

"Serena sure likes riding-" Zevran began.

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you, Zev," Alistair cut in, holding up a hand. "She's a pretty girl, but you do _not_ want to make her angry."

"Perhaps you are right, my good friend Alistair." The blonde assassin said, slowly nodding, his eyes on Serena. "Surely I should save some teasing for when we are back on the surface..."

"That's a good man," Alistair said. He stepped away to follow Zevran down a short alleyway, calling back soon. "Dead-end again, I'm afraid!"

Serena sighed heavily, moving on to the next turn in the road. A group of small hovels, seemingly abandoned, leaned heavily against a stone wall, and out of the shadows popped the head of one of the squeaking little nugs. Nosing gently towards her, Serena reached out with her senses in an effort to calm the animal.

"Come on, I won't hurt you..." she cooed, leaning down. "You're a bit small for a nug, aren't you? Probably why nobody has bothered to eat you yet." The tiny pink mass hopped forward, cheeping softly until she gathered it up. "Hey, Leli, weren't you saying how cute you thought these were?"

"Oooh, it's one of those subterranean bunny-pigs!" Leliana happily took the nug from Serena, cradling it gently in her arms as she snuggled it close. "He's snuffling me! Snuffle, snuffle!" The redhead grinned as she held the nug up to Sten for inspection, who frowned at it. "Isn't he delightful?"

"No."

"I think I'll name him Mr. Schmooples!" Leliana said, ignoring Sten. "And he will be my new best friend." She turned her pack around and placed the tiny nug in a side pocket, where it immediately curled up in a ball. "Please do not poo in my pack, Mr. Schmooples."

Serena snorted with laughter. "Mr. Schmooples?"

"May I remind you that your hound is named _Peanut_," the giant rumbled. Beside Sten, Serena's mabari barked at the sound of his name, wagging his tiny tail.

"Hmm, you've a point," Serena conceded, scratching the massive dog between the ears. "It's a strong name, though, don't you think? Peanut. Very masculine."

"I like Mr. Schmooples," Alim said. "Reminds me of a cat one of my friends in the Tower had." He reached into his pack and pulled out a small bag of roots and handed them over to the bard. "In case he gets hungry." Leliana grinned at him and fed a few of the roots to her new pet, cooing all the while.

"Serena!" Zevran called from across whatever could be called a street in this place. "I believe we have gotten lucky at last!" Joining them, Serena handed him the finger bone key and he pushed it into a slot barely bigger than her own little finger. There was a soft click and the wall slid to the side to reveal a tunnel. "A miracle we noticed this at all, truly."

They stepped into the tunnel hesitantly, heading slowly down the rough stone stairs. The tunnel was much cooler than the city above, probably from the lack of open lava streams that seemed to provide Orzammar with much of its light and warmth.

"Are we... descending further underground?" Morrigan asked, lighting her staff partially as it quickly grew darker. The glow washed around them in the tunnel, throwing heavy shadows every which way as further back Wynne and Alim both lit their staffs as well. "The thought of so much rock over one's head is... disquieting."

"Makes you miss the swamp a bit, eh, Morrigan?" Alistair jibbed. "Don't really need to worry about a rockslide out there."

"Let's _not_ talk about rockslides down here," Wynne said cooly, her eyes glancing nervously about the tunnel. Slowly the walls began to carve into the familiar geometric designs, the stone flattening out into a walkable path. "For a tiny people, they certainly are industrious, aren't they?"

"This must be the carta hideout," Serena breathed, pointing ahead to the door. She pulled one of her daggers and knocked on the door.

There was the scraping sound of stone moving and two dark eyes appeared. "Password?"

"Uh... Dust Town forever?"

The dark eyes rolled over her in a quick inspection then disappeared as the peephole closed and the door swung open.

"I can't believe that actually worked," Alistair whispered. "Who would make _that_ their password?"

They shuffled into the darkened room, Serena squinting to adjust to the flashing lights as the mages staves flickered against the odd angles of the room. The floor was cramped with what looked like wooden crates and barrels as Serena nearly tripped forward, Alistair reaching out to steady her.

"I didn't really expect to get in so easily," Serena murmured. Behind her, one of the mages, she thought maybe it was Alim, stepped into the smaller room she was in and it flooded with light, illuminating the bodies on the ground. "Oh, no..." Serena gasped as she realized she was standing in a thick puddle of congealed blood. "Oh, Maker... _no_... What happened?" She felt Alim's hand on her shoulder as the door they'd just came through slammed shut again.

"They were dwarves who decided to cross Jarvia and the carta," came a deep voice. A man stepped out, his eyes staring at them like two big black holes in the middle of his face. Two other dwarves appeared behind him, weapons bared. All three had the facial tattoos that marked them as the casteless.

"If we could do _that_ to our own... what do you think we're going to do to _you_?"


	60. Chapter 60

**Author's Note:** Part 2 of A Brother in Peril. (The chapter title, as I'm sure many of you will recognize, comes from a quest in DA2.) Thanks all for the reviews, follows, and kind words of encouragement! You guys are the best, and make writing this story an extra awesome joy.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 60<span> - _Shepherding Wolves_

"Oh, well... damn."

Alim's voice was barely a whisper in her ear. "Serena..." His hand on her shoulder was tight. Behind them there was a loud thumping, as if one of their companions was trying to beat the door down. It was Sten or Alistair, most likely, Serena thought; the pounding was heavy, and coming from the top of the door.

"Looks like we have a couple wannabe martyrs on our hands here," the deep voiced dwarf continued, eyeing the metal door and then Serena. "Too bad your friends are stuck on the other side, eh, Wardens?"

Serena pulled her dagger, ready for a fight. "Are we supposed to be afraid?"

From behind them, another voice chimed in. "Yes, you should." There was the clink of metal and four more dwarves appeared, daggers and crude knives glinting in the low light. "Your friends can pound on that door all day and it won't open unless we want it to."

"Well, bring it on, Shorty," Serena taunted. She flung her dagger hard, landing it in one of the dwarves legs. The man howled and fell over as she pulled her other dagger, keeping herself between Alim and the others as they backed up to the wall for cover.

One of the dwarves, a woman, pulled a lever in the wall and Serena heard Alim cry out in pain as spikes pushed out into them. Serena felt a quick stab in her lower back and the bearded dwarf laughed harshly. "You sodding cloudheads are all the same."

"Serena, when I say, I want you to get down..." the elf whispered, his voice cracking with pain. His hand was back on her shoulder, pushing her down slowly but insistently. "Okay? Just _get __down_."

She shook her head in protest, despite the pain in her back forcing her to her knees. "But you're-"

"Down! Now!" Alim shouted. Serena dove to the ground, sliding in the curdled blood on the floor as Alim's hand shot out above her, the rush of magic erupting out of him. The spell hit the lead dwarf head-on and he fell in a heap at the others feet as the other two armored men staggered uselessly on their feet, the effects washing over them quickly.

"You... I..." The thug's eyes rolled and he slumped over as Alim pushed forward, stepping over Serena on the ground and placing his palms on the two men's foreheads. She could feel his magic, powerful and crippling as it pulsed through him and into their weakened forms. Serena watched wide-eyed as the two somnolent dwarves began to quake and cower in fear, dropping their weapons as they tried desperately to crawl away from the mage.

With a quick gesture, the elf pulled his hands up sharply and the two dwarves jerked in unison, falling to the ground, their eyes suddenly blank and staring.

"Kill the mage! Leave the girl for Jarvia!" another dwarf shouted, advancing on the pair. Serena rolled up at Alim's feet, kicking out her boot as the advancing woman pitched forward, completely off-balance.

Pulling Duncan's blade from her boot, she stabbed it deep in the falling dwarf, kicking her body back off into her fellows. Beside her, Alim put a hand to his head and again Serena felt the pulse of his magic explode out, knocking the dwarves to the ground.

Leaning over, she plunged Duncan's long dagger into the nearest dwarf as blood spurted out of the vicious neck wound, moving onto the next one. It was savage and disgusting, the red insides splattering across them as Serena finished off the stunned thugs one-by-one. The blood from the dead dwarves covered her chest and arms and face, making her look like she'd been the one who was eviscerated.

"Are you alright, Serena?" Alim had turned, his tan skin was flushed from the effort used in... doing whatever he'd done against the dwarves. Serena could see his arms were shaking, there was a fine tremor running just under his skin. "I can't really tell through all that blood."

"What did you-?"

"Death magic," Alim answered, breathing hard. "It heals my wounds by... by draining their energy. I've never... used that much mana before, in... in one go, though."

There was a loud crunch and Alistair finally broke through the door, Sten right behind him.

"Damn door was on some kind of bloody track!" Alistair shouted, his voice sounding exceptionally loud in the intense calm of the room. He peered about frantically taking in the blood on Serena and the floor, and then all the dead dwarves. "Maker's breath... what happened?"

"They tried to kill us," Serena said, wiping a spare bit of cloth across her face. The handkerchief came back red and she grimaced before continuing. "Alim knocked them out while I..." She paused, looking down at her front and frowning. "This is mostly their blood."

"Oh, well as long as its mostly _their_ blood," Alistair replied sarcastically, going to her. He put his hand under her chin, examining her for wounds, his mouth pursed in a deep frown. Apparently satisfied by his inspection, he absently handed her his own handkerchief before turning to the mage next. "What about you, Alim?"

"I'm healed already," the elf murmured, removing his ruined outer robes and stuffing them in his pack as the rest of the companions shuffled into the chamber, each looking around curiously. He shivered slightly in the chill of the lower tunnels and he felt Serena's hand on his shoulder briefly before she handed him her cloak.

"'Tis you who drained these two, was it not?" Morrigan pushed one of the corpses with the toe of her boot. "'Tis powerful magic." She eyed Alim with her intense golden eyes, smiling slightly. "I am impressed."

"Uh, thanks." Alim pulled Serena's cloak on, it was a big snug in the shoulder put otherwise fit reasonable well. "I don't think I'll be doing it again any time soon, though."

The witch's grin simply grew. "A pity, that. I would like to see you fight sometime."

"I think we must be near-ish to Jarvia," Serena said, pointing ahead to another passage that led out the back of the room. "One of the dwarves wanted to bring me to her. She may... know we're here already."

"Then that shall make this even more fun," Zevran replied. "A bit like shepherding wolves, no?"

* * *

><p>The carta was an intricate series of tunnels that connected different smaller chambers, each one absolutely filled to the brim with stolen goods. Chests of weapons, both used and new, as well as large crates spilling over with armor littered most of the rooms.<p>

A few traps, including exploding barrels triggered to trip wires, and some flimsy leghold traps were also set up throughout the hideout, causing Zevran and Serena to split up frequently to disarm them before everyone else could walk through.

Jarvia appeared to hire on anyone willing to work for her, and not just casteless dwarves. Renegade mages, and even two kossith mercenaries, which Sten growled were called _Tal'vashoth_, were present in some of the chambers, ready to fight for their dwarven employer.

The giant qunari seemed especially incensed at the appeareances of the two kossith men, engaging them quickly, fury reading clearly on his usually impassive face. At Serena's query, he explained that to leave the Qun, to reject it, was punishable by death.

"You see how they saw off their horns? They _relish_ their outcast role, their self-imposed exile." Sten stomped around the dead bodies in his too-large boots, practically seething with rage. "To stand with these... dwarven _basra_... for coin... It is pitiable."

"Wait, so kossith have horns?" Serena peered at the two dead men and realized they had indeed filed their horns down to fine nubs, barely noticeable if one was not looking keenly at them. "How come you don't have any?"

Sten puffed out his chest proudly, pulling his white braids back into a tail. "Unlike these... _vashedan_... I was born this way. It is why I was chosen to come here. The Arishok believed I would blend in better."

Serena giggled. "How big are the horns that he thought _you _would blend in at eight feet tall?" Sten held his hands up near his head, extending them out around a foot and a half. "Oh. Oh, dear. Well... perhaps your Arishok was correct in that."

"Indeed," Sten agreed.

"Hello? Hello, is someone down there? _Please_-"

The call was low and gravelly and most definitely male. Serena started down the passageway when Zevran grabbed her. "Let me, my dear. It could be another trap." Despite the elf's warning, Serena found herself jogging after him, her curiosity almost overwhelming her. Who would be asking for help in this place other than Bhelen's brother-in-law? So far, the carta's main rule seemed to be kill anyone you don't recognize, ask questions later.

"Please... strangers, let me out. I see you bear no love for Jarvia." A large black haired dwarf clung helplessly to the bars of a small prison cell, his eyes looked slightly sunken into his face from malnourishment. "Please, help us."

"Are you Faren?" Serena asked hopefully.

"I'm Leske, but... that's Faren in there... please!" Serena ran to the door, pulling her pins from her hair as she quickly worked the tumblers of the lock. The dwarf, Leske, practically fainted into her arms, his happiness at being freed was so great. "Th-thank you. We've been down here... it's been so long."

Next to her, she saw Zevran working on the next cell's lock and soon it clicked open. Detaching herself from the thankful Leske, she stepped inside, squinting in the low light for the other dwarf Faren. A low groan in the corner alerted her and she kneeled at the man's side.

"Wynne, I need you!" Serena called. "He's barely breathing!" The older mage came running then, her hands already glowing blue as the rest of the companions filed into what operated as the carta's dungeon.

"He is gonna be alright?" Leske asked, slumping tiredly to the ground. "He was moaning this morning, one of the guards beat him pretty bad last night... I think it was last night..." He shook his head. "Do any of you have anything to eat?"

Serena dug into her pack, pulling out a small cheesecloth. "Here, take whatever you need," she said, handing it over to him. Leliana handed him a small loaf of bread, smiling gently.

"Is this... wh-wheat?" The dwarf looked wonderingly at the bread before digging into it. "Blessed Stone, it tastes so... so sodding _wonderful_. I haven't had wheat in..." Leske shoved the rest of the small loaf in his mouth, his words lost to his chewing. Picking out some of Serena's dried fruit from the cloth, he gobbled those up quickly too, and Serena found herself wondering if Jarvia had intended the two men to starve to death.

"He's awake now, Serena," Wynne said quietly. "He is still weak, but..."

"L-Les..." The dwarf coughed and sat up slowly, his eyes blinking tiredly. He was even thinner than the black haired dwarf, his skin looked mottled from the beating he took and lack of food. "Leske?"

"I'm here, Faren," Leske called, abandoning the food to join his friend. "Thought you were a goner there for a bit, salroka."

"Felt like it..." Faren ran a hand through disheveled hair. "How'd a bunch of topsiders come about this place, anyway?"

"Prince Bhelen sent us," Serena said. "He said you were his brother-in-law."

"Bhelen actually _said_ that?" The dwarf's expression changed from bemused to impressed. "I never thought he'd admit that out loud. Rica must be having a good influence on him." With Zevran's help, he stood up. "I suppose we're in your debt, stranger."

"You can call me Serena, actually, and these are my companions. We're Grey Wardens."

Faren nodded, as if this wasn't particularly surprising. "Grey Wardens, eh? You know a man named Duncan? Came 'round here a few months ago, seeing about recruits... nearly went with him, but my sister Rica was heavy with child then... didn't feel right leaving her. Didn't know if it was going to be a boy back then."

"And I'm guessing Bhelen is the father of her child?" Serena asked.

"Lucky for us, yeah, otherwise it'd be just another casteless waste of space." Faren shook his head. "Bhelen's rough, but at least he _sees_ us, you know? With most of those deshyr dogs, you'd think these tattoos made us _invisible_."

"If you'd like, I can send you with some of my friends here, back to the palace. We still have business with Jarvia, I'm afraid."

"Her study, if you can even call it that, is right down the tunnel there, to the left. Blessed Stone, I hope your lot knock her into next week. Sodding bitch... Almost makes me miss Beraht..." Feran leaned on Leske, both of them limping back towards the exit, supporting each other.

"I will return to the palace with them, Serena," Wynne volunteered, already following the two dwarves out. "Could I bring your hound with me?"

"Of course. Leliana, if you could go as well, in case Jarvia set out any more traps...?" Serena pressed a pin from her hair into the bard's hand. The redhead nodded, whistling for the mabari and the small group disappeared, heading back for the city surface.

Following Faren's brief but surprisingly accurate instructions, they arrived in the study to find themselves face to face with a stocky dwarven woman, a handful of armored thugs at her side.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Warden. I'm sure you know who I am."

Short brown hair with a tattoo under one eye, the same as Serena had seen on other casteless in Dust Town, Jarvia had all of the swagger of someone who was used to getting their way. Serena found she had been expecting a gruff, angry tone, but strangely, Jarvia had a calm, smooth voice, like that of any young maiden bent on enticing a rich husband.

"So, Bhelen realized his throne means nothing if he can't hold onto it, yet he still doesn't bother to send his own men?" Jarvia shook her head, sneering up at Serena. "Well, you picked the wrong side, stranger. It doesn't matter who's king, as long as there's a _queen_!"

"Certainly cocky, isn't she?" Zevran chuckled, as if the dwarven woman was having them all on. "We just decimated your little protection ring, and still you think to fight us?"

"You'll pay for their deaths a hundred times over!" Jarvia spat. "I'll take their vengeance in blood!"

"That doesn't even make _sense_, really." Serena rolled her eyes, she'd heard so many threats by now, it didn't even phase her much anymore. Fighting the dwarves, unless they were in particularly vast numbers, reminded her a bit of wrestling with Oren back at the castle. They were much more vicious, though, of course, usually with giant axes or long twin blades.

"Kill them! But leave the pretty one alive... I have _plans_ for her." At her signal, the room flooded with more warriors, much to Serena's chagrin. So much for an easy fight, she supposed. "I'm going wear your pretty teeth around my wrist!"

"She is simply filled with fun little catch phrases, isn't she?" Zevran quipped, sweeping his long daggers across an opponents neck. Blood spurted from the wound as the dwarf dropped to the ground, another moving in quickly to replace him.

Serena turned and kicked out, catching an oncoming assailant in the chest before digging her dagger in deep. Remarkably persistent, the dwarf reached for her throat, closing on it tight as she twisted the blade in his guts, shoving him to the ground. His gauntleted hand clenched as she tried to wrench herself away, her neck burning now, the man's blood flowing out over her hand until finally he relented and fell back dead.

Searching the field for Jarvia, Serena pushed past Alistair, who was back to back with Sten, his sword slashing ruthlessly, catching one of the carta thugs so fast he lost an arm in the process. The dwarf howled, grasping at his ruined stump as Sten turned, plunging his sword in the man's throat, cutting his screeching off.

"Serena! Wait!" Alim's sharp voice paused Serena in her tracks. His hand shot out quickly and a nearby barrel exploded, his spell protecting her from the worst of the blast. "This place is littered with traps. And Jarvia-"

"Looking for me, girly?"

The soft voice was eerily calm considering the carnage surrounding them and Serena saw Alim throw up his hands, magic pulsating there as he threw a spell at the rogue. Catching it full in the face, Jarvia growled, shaking angrily like a mad hound before throwing a thin blade directly at the elf. The blade curved in the air, swinging wildly to the left as it landed in one of her fellows, who screamed as he clutched his ruined eye.

"Sodding mages!" Jarvia bellowed, her soft voice lost now as she poised to launch herself at the elf. "See if you can stop me from _beating_ you to death!"

"You can come through me first!" Sprinting to meet the other rogue in the distance between, Serena landed her fist in the women's side as Jarvia's hand connected with Serena's face. Grabbing the smaller woman by the hair, Serena threw her down on the ground, shaking off the pain in her cheek to land a kick in Jarvia's shoulder.

"All that needs now is a pool of mud, I think," Zevran called, watching the two women roll across the floor, both desperately grabbing at whatever they could to rip apart the other's armor. Serena felt another of Alim's spells wash over them and she realized quickly Jarvia had been paralyzed beneath her.

Duncan's dagger was already in her hand as she moved, Serena bringing it up to cut under the dwarven woman's neck. Dark red blood poured out as Jarvia tried to scream, unable to move her mouth and Serena rolled back off her, her own blood mingling with the mess from the fight.

"I think that's the lot of them," Alistair said from somewhere nearby. "Is anyone seriously injured?" There were muttered reassurances around the room as Serena and Zevran raided the bodies for valuables and weapons.

Morrigan was changing back from her wolf form, her arm bleeding from a long cut. Alim quickly went to her, pressing his hand on the wound and closing it. Serena elbowed Zevran, both of them eyeing the two mages intently. Morrigan appeared almost entranced as the elven mage healed her cut, his tan skin a sharp contrast to her own pale flesh. "I apologize if this stings," Alim murmured, his hand glowing on her arm still.

"'Tis fine," Morrigan replied, her mouth almost a smile. Catching the two rogues attention on her finally, her half smile quickly turned to a deep frown. "Something I might help you with, Serena?"

"Oh, uh..." Serena flushed, grasping about her. She picked up one of the looted gauntlets from Jarvia's corpse. "These uh, have... lyrium on them, right?"

"Nice save," Zevran breathed, continuing to root through the rest of the bodies so as to avoid the witch's keen gaze.

The witch smiled briefly again at Alim in thanks before moving to kneel at Serena's side. "'Tis drakeskin, I believe, with... yes, that is lyrium that runs across the sides, I can sense it." Her golden eyes found Serena. "You should wear them, sell the ones you have. These are infinitely better."

Replacing her old gauntlets with the new lyrium-laced ones, Serena felt the strange rush of magic colliding with her; the senses that the Lady of the Forest had opened up in her were expanding once again with these new gloves. Her mind felt cloudy, confused, like it had when the spirit had touched her...

"Interesting." Alim pointed to her upper arm, where a brownish leaf pattern could be seen, rippling gently, like a moving tattoo. Slower than before, the markings disappeared, fading back into her skin until it was perfect again. "Does that happen often when you touch lyrium?"

"No. I don't know." Serena exchanged quick glances with Morrigan. "I don't think so?"

"It happened once before. Briefly," Morrigan said, her mouth pursed in deep thought. "A spirit gifted her with a more intense connection to her ranger abilities."

Alim nodded. "Ah, so _that's_ what I sensed. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I knew you weren't another mage, but there was... something strange about you."

"Ah, yeah. Thanks." Serena flipped her wrists around, examining her skin for any more of the leaf pattern, almost disappointed that it had faded so soon. It looked pretty, if not a bit strange. "Do you think... uh, what do you think that means?"

"It could mean anything... or nothing. Perhaps you are just sensitive to lyrium? Or perhaps your abilities have been intensified?" Alim shrugged. "One way to find out. What can you sense from here?"

"I... uh..." Serena closed her eyes, trying to focus her mind on any animals in the general vicinity. "There's... some nugs... a group of them just above on the surface..."

"Call them to you," Alim urged her excitedly. "Call to them with your mind."

"I... from here? I don't think..." But at Alim's obvious enthusiasm at the idea, she relented. "Oh, alright." Serena closed her eyes again, intent on doing as Alim said, though she thought it unlikely the little pink animals would be inclined to agree to her request. Pushing out with her mind, she called to the nugs, demanding their presence at her side. "They... they're coming. They're uh... _all_ coming." She couldn't help the surprise in her voice.

"Well then, I guess that answers that question, doesn't it?" Alim grinned, patting Serena on the back, as if she were a student who had gotten a correct answer. "_Definitely_ keep those gloves."

* * *

><p>"Gah! By all the beards of my ancestors! How did you... where did you come from?" The back of Jarvia's carta hideout emptied out through a tunnel that happened to run right through the shop of Dagna's father- a brutish looking man named Janar. The dark haired dwarf stomped forward angrily, hands waving. "Y-you made a hole in my wall! And where did all these bloody nugs come from?"<p>

At his mention of them, another cluster of nugs started cheeping madly, hopping towards Serena as she stepped out of the broken bit of wall.

"Ah, sorry about that..." She smiled apologetically. "Did you know this leads underground to Jarvia's carta in Dust Town?"

"It... it does? Jarvia, you say? Oh, sod it all. If people find out about this, my business will be ruined!" He booted one of the squealing nugs across the room where it landed in another squeaking pile of pink. Still more nugs appeared to be hopping into the shop, intent on reaching Serena. "And that's assuming I can get all these bloody things out of my damn armory!"

The rest of Serena's companions stepped out of the makeshift tunnel opening and Serena could hear Alim laughing. "Oh boy, you really did call all of them, didn't you?"

"This is _your_ sodding fault?" Janar bellowed. "Blessed Stone... First you bust my wall... You know, I... I don't want to have anything to do with this! Just grab these damn nugs and get your sodding arses out of my shop!" The man turned away, muttering darkly about criminals and cloudheads.

"Right, uh... come on everyone... Let's get out of this man's way." Serena looked pointedly at the nugs, focusing her energy on commanding them out. "That means you little guys, too... Out! Out of the shop!"

"Maker's breath, Serena," Alistair muttered, picking up a clutch of the pink bunny-pigs in his arms. "There must be over a hundred in here... what did you do? Call every nug in the city?"

"Basically." Serena shrugged sheepishly, gathering up a group of nugs and carrying them out of Janar's store. "I didn't think it would be so... many. They must _breed_ like bunnies, you know?" She sighed, shooing more of the pink things out the door. "Ugh, do they ever stop squeaking?"

They could still here Dagna's father griping as they exited, a herd of fat pink nugs in their wake as they made their way back out into the Commons. Passing dwarves peered at them curiously, some openly laughing at the nugs squealed happily around them, oblivious to their growing irritation.

"Can't you just... tell them to go away?" Alistair asked, shaking a nug off his boot. "We can't go back to the _palace_ like this."

"I'll handle it," Morrigan said. Shifting quickly, she shook out her limbs as her body elongated to become the sleek black wolf again. She then let out a ear-splitting howl and the nugs quickly dispersed, scattering in every direction to escape the furry black beast now licking it's chops.

"Always so dramatic, eh, Morrigan?" Serena murmured, rolling her eyes. "Just don't eat any of them."

_As __if __I __would_, the wolf replied, coming to walk at Serena's side. _They __smell __worse __than __your __mutt_. Glancing at Morrigan sharply, Serena paused, clapping a hand over her mouth. The others looked at her, confusion reading clearly on their faces.

"Oh my goodness. I... I can... I can _hear_ you," she whispered.


	61. Chapter 61

**Author's Note:** Thanks everyone for reviewing and adding the story to your favorites! Oghren is one of my favorite characters in Dragon Age... it really is a shame you can't romance him (or any of the dwarves, actually. I'm looking at you, Varric!)

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 61<span> - _Sheer Drunk Luck_

_What do you mean you can hear me?_

"I can bloody hear you!" Serena exclaimed. "What other way is there to say that?"

"Serena? Are you okay?" Alistair exchanged quick glances with Zevran, who shrugged, confused. They were walking through the Diamond Quarter, which while less populated than the Commons, they were still attracting quite a bit of attention. "You're, uh... shouting." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Stop shouting, love."

_Answer __my __questions_, Morrigan pressed, ignoring Alistair completely. Her golden wolf eyes were intense, boring into Serena's own. _What __other __shapes __can __I __take __that __you __know?_

"Other than the wolf? Um, bear... I think I saw you change into a crow once?"

"What are you _talking_ about Serena? Who are you-" Alistair looked at the wolf, then back at Serena. "Are you talking to _her_? Right now?"

"It's the gloves," Alim whispered excitedly to Alistair. "Can you imagine all the amazing things she can do now?"

"I shudder to think."

_I __know __not __what __this __means, __but __I __will __check __my __mother's __grimoire __when __we__re turn __to __the __palace._ _I __read __a __mention __of __abilities __like __yours... __There __must __be __something __more... __Something __I __missed..._ Morrigan took a few steps and then quickly changed back into her human form, looking more than a little annoyed at Serena and the rest. Or perhaps she was just annoyed with herself; it was hard to tell with Morrigan.

"You should call it yours, really." Serena shrugged, flexing her fingers in her new gloves. She could feel the lyrium tickling her blood, like a feather being run against her insides. "I mean, it is _yours_ now. She's dead, remember?"

"The woman will probably never be truly dead, Serena," the witch snapped. "One day, she will find a way back to her body, or perhaps possess a new one, and she will come after me." Morrigan's eyes stared straight ahead as she walked, the lines in her face were so harsh she could have been carved out of marble. "Make no mistake of that."

"You are _wildly_ unsettling- anybody ever tell you that, Morrigan?" Alistair shook his head. "You're _both_ kind of disturbing me, actually. You know we have no idea what you're talking about?"

"Sorry, love," Serena murmured. She leaned against him gently as they headed into the palace. Serena could sense Peanut nearby. These new... upgrades to her abilities were staggering. She didn't even have to focus to find her mabari now, she just _knew_ when he was within range. "Keep in mind this is new to me, too."

A new voice piped up then. "Just to be clear... You cannot hear _my_ thoughts, right?"

Serena grinned over at the assassin. "Worried, Zev?"

"I would not want to shock you, Serena. You have such delicate sensibilities."

"Rest assured, Zevran. I can't read your mind. I can't read Morrigan's either." Serena nodded at the witch's back, as she was now pointedly ignoring them all. "She _was_ speaking, it was just... you guys don't speak wolf, I suppose."

"I _knew_ something was missing from my Chantry education," said Alistair.

* * *

><p>The Assembly vote did not sound like it was going well.<p>

Alistair stood outside the massive metal doors, pacing back and forth for lack of anything better to do. Serena was inside, had been inside for over an hour now, representing the Grey Wardens, listening intently as each House casted their vote for the next King.

But it sounded like a bunch of shouting to Alistair. It made him nervous for the coming Landsmeet. Would the Bannorn accept him as a viable alternative to Loghain? Or would they choose Anora, perhaps? She was already queen and well-liked by many of the nobles…

"Alistair, perhaps you should sit down, hmm?" Leliana was leaning against the wall, her undersized nug, Mr. Schmooples, was sitting on her shoulder, nuzzling her neck. "You are making me quite dizzy. I'm sure Serena is just fine in there."

"From the sound of it, she's probably deaf by now," Zevran said. He walked up to one of the doors and placed his ear to it, frowning. "Two more votes for Bhelen, one vote for Harrowmont... and another for Harrowmont..." He sighed, pushing away again. "I don't see why it matters one way or another. Are the two really so different?"

"They should measure them," Sten said. "Whichever is larger, make that one King."

"Is that how the Qunari decide things, Sten?" Alistair asked. "Whoever has the biggest horns get to be King?"

"No," the giant replied. "The Qunari have three leaders, a Triumvirate, as one leader cannot know all that a society needs in order to function properly."

"Oh." Alistair slumped against the wall beside Leliana, who patted him gently.

"Do not worry, Alistair. You will make a fine king. You are smart, and you have a sort of... awkward charm that endears people to you." The redhead's eyes scanned the hall, falling on Morrigan, who was hunched in a corner, reading intently. "Well, most people, anyway."

Alistair smirked. "Yes, I'm never winning that battle... but that's why I keep Serena around. She soothes the savage beast. I wish I could make _her_ king," Alistair muttered. "She'd be great at it. She just has this ability to make people... follow her. Listen to her."

"Well, you _could_ make her your queen," Leliana whispered to him from behind her hand. "Assuming you win the Landsmeet."

"I do believe I'm ahead of you on that front." The nug on Leliana's shoulder squeaked and Alistair smiled elusively at the bard, tapping his empty ring finger with a knowing smile. He put a finger quickly to his lips. "Shhh, though."

"Oh, I..." Leliana clapped a hand over her mouth in excitement. "Really?" she mumbled through the hand, her blue eyes huge. "_Really_, really?"

"Yes, but _shhh_."

"We have to have a party... I can't believe she didn't _tell_ me..."

"I can't imagine why," Alistair replied, rolling his eyes. "What is it with girls and parties?"

Suddenly the massive double doors opened and Alistair and the others snapped to their feet, looking for Serena among the horde of dwarves that were now exiting the Assembly chamber. Easily a whole head and shoulders taller than the rest of the men leaving, Serena was now stepping out with what had to be Bhelen and Vartag beside her. She nodded to Alistair, still deep in talks with the dwarven prince.

"So that's our only…" Serena shook her head, frowning. "Honestly your highness, I was not expecting Harrowmont to pull _that_."

"It was unexpected, certainly," Bhelen replied, an angry set to his mouth. "I didn't think the old snake had it in him, but here we are."

Alistair looked from Serena to Bhelen. "So what's the verdict? We didn't lose, did we?"

Serena shook her head again, her eyebrows knitting together. "No, we won, barely, but Harrowmont contested the outcome. There's to be another vote in three days time, but..." Alistair felt his stomach drop out. After dealing with the elves, he hated the word 'but' with a vengeance.

"But we are afraid it will simply come to the same conclusion," the prince concluded. "There is, however, something else we can do that that old nug-humper can't stop."

"And that is?" Alistair asked.

"We need to find a Paragon," Serena said. "She's... supposedly in the Deep Roads."

"Two years ago, a Paragon named Branka took her entire house into the Deep Roads on a mad quest to uncover ancient secrets for the smiths. No one's heard from her since." Bhelen exchanged glances with Serena, almost in apology it seemed for asking such an outrageous request. "But as a living Paragon, were she to return and endorse someone for the throne, the Assembly would be honor-bound to accept her wishes."

"My men traced Branka's disappearance to an ancient crossroads known as Caridin's Cross." Bhelen sighed, his beard twitching. "It is, of course, quite a bit deeper than where we normally venture, but here is a map to lead you there." He gestured to Vartag, who handed Serena a rolled-up parchment. "You can enter the Deep Roads through the mines."

"We'll try our best to find Branka, your highness," Serena said, dipping a slight curtsy.

"May the ancestors guide you, my friends. I will try my best to stall the vote as long as possible." Bhelen smiled curtly and exited the Assembly with Vartag in toe, both of them already deep in conversation.

Zevran watched the prince leave before turning a skeptical eye on Serena. "The Deep Roads? This is where all the darkspawn live, no?"

"Well, oddly enough, they're supposed to be _safer_ to travel during a Blight. The majority of the fiends seem to be topside, ravaging our homes." Alistair shrugged. "We don't really have much of a choice, do we?"

"Do we ever?" Serena replied. "Going into the Deep Roads for a bloody woman... Maker forbid these damn people go look for her two _years_ ago..."

"It will be good chance to survey what the darkspawn may have planned," Sten added.

"You're right, I hadn't thought of that. Well, let's get a move on. Bhelen said it would take at least half a day to reach Caradin's Cross."

* * *

><p>Prince Bhelen had apparently handed them a permission note to go into the mines as well, as they were normally off limits due to the frequent darkspawn attacks. Alistair looked it over as they headed towards the entrance to the Deep Roads.<p>

"News of the Hour! Grey Wardens present in Orzammar... search for Paragon Branka to begin!"

Alistair glanced at the town crier. "How do you suppose he knows that?"

"Bhelen and Harrowmont employ them to slander the other, I imagine," Serena replied, not even bothering to give the dwarf the time of day. "Helps sway public opinion." She grinned at Alistair. "Too bad we couldn't do that in Denerim, hmm?"

A group of guards stood nearby, arguing with the same ginger dwarf from the day before. Alistair nudged Serena, pointing his head towards the dispute. "Didn't he mention a Branka yesterday?"

"...I'm the only one who even bothers to look for her, you sodding-"

"Oghren, you know the rules," one of the miners persisted. "You can't get past the front lines without permission from a deshyr."

Serena stepped forward, the note from Bhelen in her hand. "Excuse me, ser, we have permission. This man could... come with us?"

"Ha! Here we go now!" The ginger dwarf did a funny little jig before straightening his shoulders importantly. "Hear that, Ganden? _We_ have permission." He turned to Serena. "Good on you, stranger. Let's get going if we're going, Branka isn't going to sodding find herself." He attempted striding past the mining commander, who grabbed him by the scruff of his armor and held him there while he examined the note from Bhelen.

"A human, eh? See you got some elves here, too, and a..." Gandan peered at Sten curiously. "Whatever that is." He turned to one of his fellows. "We make these tunnels tall enough for _that_?"

"Sten is a kossith," Serena said.

"Oh, good to know," the dwarf replied sarcastically. "Sure that'll be one of the questions at Tapsters' trivia night this evening. What's the tall bronze skinned fellow walking around with the little girl?"

Serena scoffed. "You're calling _me_ little?"

"Open your sodding eyes, man!" the ginger dwarf cut in, shaking the commander's hand off him. "These are the Grey Wardens! We're on a quest to find your Paragon! Do I have to take your stinking head off?"

"Friendly lot," Alistair mumbled, fighting the urge to grin. Serena glanced at him sidelong before turning back to the mining commander, her hands on her hips.

"Shut it, Oghren," Ganden growled. "Heard right about enough out of you this morning already. Wardens, you may pass, and if you wish to take this-" he indicated the ginger dwarf with a jerk of his thumb, "I suppose I can't stop you. Best of luck with your quest. Orzammar needs a Paragon now more than ever."

"Thank you, ser. Ah, Oghren, is it?" At the dwarf's grunt, she continued, walking quickly to keep up with the marching dwarf. "I'm Serena, it's a... pleasure to meet you."

"Aye, whatever you say, Legs."

Behind them, Zevran was laughing loudly. "Oh, this will be fun."

* * *

><p>They had been walking for four hours so far and the dwarf, Oghren, hadn't slowed his pace at all. He also hadn't stopped drinking. What it was Alistair had no idea, but if the smell of the alcohol was any indication, it was something of the dwarf's own design. It certainly stunk like nothing Alistair had ever imbibed.<p>

"So, how do you know Branka? That man yesterday said you were in her House?"

"Better than that." The dwarf took a drag on his waterskin, which Alistair was beginning to suspect held more than just water, and belched loudly. "I'm her sodding husband."

Alistair hadn't been expecting that. "You and Branka are married? Really? _You're_ married to a Paragon?"

Oghren glanced over at Alistair, his gaze cool, as if he was calculating how easily he could take him down to the ground and beat him to death. "Tell you what, boy: you ever been married?"

Alistair flushed. "I... No, not... no. I haven't. Why?"

"Thank the hardest stone you can fine, then." The ginger-haired dwarf kicked at a rock with his large metal boot. "Marriage is for suckers."

"Ah... so... no pitter-patter of little Oghren feet running around the home cave, I take it?"

The dwarf snorted. "All I ever got out of that moss-licker was a headache, a deaf ear, a scratched-up back and that rash it took three different ointments to get rid of."

"And here I thought marriage was meant to be this idyllic situation," Alistair sighed. "All breakfasts in bed and snuggling. Alas."

"You plan on marrying a dwarf? Because she'll snuggle you right into an early grave, boy. The women have bigger beards than the men, if you catch my drift."

"Yes, well, good thing I hadn't planned on marrying a dwarf, then."

"You'd do better with a nice girl," Oghren observed sagely. "Take Legs over there."

"I'll assume you mean Serena." Alistair looked around, making sure the woman in question wasn't within earshot of their conversation. Her laughter would probably cause him to flush red down to his belt buckle.

"If you're looking for something to tap, I'd say Legs would do just fine," the dwarf continued. "She certainly looks flexible enough, aye? Bit tall for me, of course, but you're a hearty sort."

"Oh, our dear Alistair already has a lady waiting for him at home, don't you? A simple country girl for a simple Chantry boy." Alistair shot Zevran a look, but Zevran simply ignored him, instead choosing to stick his hand out to the dwarf. "Hello my stocky little friend. I do not believe I have had the pleasure yet. I'm Zevran Arainai, assassin extraordinaire."

Oghren belched loudly. "Huh. You got small breasts for a gal."

Zevran raised an eyebrow in reply. "If you wanted to bed me, you have only to ask."

"Nice try, elf. I'm not that drunk yet." He turned back to Alistair. "So you got a gal waiting for you? Good on you, boy. I would have pegged you for a virgin."

Alistair sighed again. This dwarf was as bad as Morrigan, it seemed. "Why does everyone say that? I've had sex. I've had _lots_ of sex."

"Your hand doesn't count, boy," Oghren replied.

"Oh, no, I can vouch for him," Zevran said. "He has had lots of sex. Very loud, _very_ enthusiastic sex."

"Aye, so you two..." The dwarf looked between the two of them before nodding knowingly. "Not _my_ mug of ale, of course, but to each his own."

Alistair groaned. "No, no, I'm not having sex with _him_. Andraste's flaming… is this a _nightmare_? Someone tell me I'm in the Fade and this is just a bad dream." Beside him Zevran grinned, pleased at the chaos he had sown. "I hate you, by the way."

"Lovers quarrel, I get'cha," Oghren said. "Don't let me interrupt."

"Hey Oghren, are you sure we're headed in the right direction?" Serena had come up now, and Alistair felt his face flush uncontrollably, just as he had predicted. Of course, she would choose right _now_. Maker, he was cursed, he just knew it.

"I've been checking the map, and we should be coming up on Caridin's Cross soon, but I can't even tell which way we're going down here... Is this south?"

"West," the dwarf replied. "Well, southwest, so you're half right. Let me see that sodding map." Serena handed the parchment over before turning to Alistair.

"Hey, you're all red. Everything okay?"

"Fine. Everything is good," Alistair said stiffly. Real convincing there, Alistair, he thought. "Just, uh, headache. Darkspawn, you know."

"You're all red," she repeated, obviously unconvinced. Serena's eyes slipped to Zevran, suspicion reading clearly on her face. "What did you do?"

"Ha! Why do you always assume it was me?" the elf replied, grinning. "Granted, it _was_ me this time, but I am curious why you always assume it to be so."

"Because nine times out of ten, it _is_ you." Serena stuck her tongue out at the elf. "Be nice to my boy, Zev. He's the only one I have." She ran a quick hand through Alistair's hair, smiling gently before she moved away to speak with Oghren again, presumably about the map. Both men watched her walk away.

"Deadly sex goddess," Zevran murmured. "You are a lucky man, Alistair. You know this, I hope?"

Alistair shook his head. "I keep wondering how I stumbled upon this, you know? Like... why me? Her brother told me she's had lots of suitors. She wouldn't allow any of them to court her. But from the moment I met her I… I just knew."

"Well, you _are_ handsome, despite that hair, and you are good with a sword. Perhaps more than one kind of sword?" Zevran gave him an appraising look that made Alistair blush slightly. "Then there is the prince thing... that must help, no?"

"You'd think so, but she actually... freaked out, when I finally told her. She's obviously okay with it all now, but at the time, I'm pretty sure she wanted to smack me in the face..." Alistair shrugged, losing his train of thought as his eyes drifted to Serena's back, to the curve of her neck as it dipped down to the light leather armor she wore... Hmm...

He could hear Zevran's voice again and shook his head. "Sorry, you were saying something?"

"It is nothing, my friend." The assassin winked. "Enjoy your gazing."

* * *

><p>"So, how's a leggy skirt like you end up with a group like that?" The stocky dwarf turned to Serena, his eyes taking in the motley group of people following her. "<em>And<em> working for Bhelen."

"You want the long version or the short version?" Serena asked.

"Long, I s'pose, I got the time."

"Hmm, well. I'm from Highever, originally. But a rival noble house murdered my family, and I was the only one who survived... Well, my brother did, too, but he wasn't at the castle at the time..." She paused, frowning. "Are you sure you want to hear the long version?"

Oghren considered. "Eh, maybe the shorter long version."

"Right, so I was saved by a man named Duncan, and became a Grey Warden. I went with him down to Ostagar, and that's where I met Alistair-"

"He the virgin?" Oghren interrupted. "The big blonde one, aye?"

"Uh, yes. But he isn't a virigin."

"Because he's stubbing the elf, right?"

"What?" Serena blinked. "Who...? Who said _that_?"

"The elf."

She glanced back and glared at the blonde assassin. "He _would_ say that." Rolling her eyes, Serena continued. "Alistair is not having sex with Zevran... He's not- he's... well..." She could feel a deep blush color her cheeks at the thought of her next words. "He's having sex with me."

"Ah, good to hear he took my advice then."

Serena opened her mouth to protest then closed it again, thinking better of it. She didn't know what advice this dwarf had dolled out to Alistair, but she was certain he hadn't taken any of it. Not yet. "Anyway, Ostagar... happened, and then it was just Alistair and I-"

"And I suppose that's when you lot started going at it like a couple of wild stallions, eh? Eh."

"No! Maker's breath, you're nearly as bad as Zevran. The sex didn't start until later." Serena shook her head, flushing again. "Why am I even _telling_ you this? I don't know you! I... I… anyway. We're the last Grey Wardens, and we just... picked up these people as we went along trying to fulfill the treaties." She sighed. "It's how we ended up working for Bhelen, and now we're looking for this Branka for him, too."

"Quite a story there, Legs."

"Yes... Yes, it sounds kind of stupid when I just... lay it all out like that." Serena looked at her boots miserably, pressing her hands to her cheeks. They felt burning hot still. "We're trying to fight the Blight, and for that, we need an army; we need your people as allies, so... this dispute over the throne... I don't know. I just hope Branka is still alive and can just say 'hey, I'd like this ponce of a prince to be king, the end!' You know?"

"Aye. I've been trying to get an army to come hunt for the old girl for years now." Oghren took a long drag on his waterskin. "Thought I'd have to march down here myself, 'til you lot came along."

"Well, we're very grateful for your... what did you call it? Stone-sense?"

"Aye," the dwarf nodded. "All dwarves got it, any dwarf born below the surface, anyway." Oghren stepped over to the wall, eyeing it carefully before nodding and moving ahead again. "You also got my firsthand knowledge of Branka. You should know that Branka was looking for the Anvil of the Void, which was supposedly lost centuries ago."

"As far as anyone knows, the Anvil was built in old Ortan Thaig. Branka planned to start looking there, if she could ever find it. It's supposed to be just past Caridin's Cross... Course, no one's seen that thaig for five hundred years."

"But we have a map, at least," Serena said.

"True enough," Oghren agreed. "And if I'm worth a spit, I'd say just 'round that bend and we ought to be there. 'Course what we find there is anyone's guess. Could be crawling with darkspawn."

"No, I'd sense them," Serena replied. She tapped her temple. "Just one of the perks of being a Grey Warden, we'll never be ambushed by those monsters at least. Not that there aren't any darkspawn, there are. But they're... further in."

They continued through the tunnel until it emptied out into an enormous chamber. Huge dwarven-made pillars shot up hundreds of feet in the air, the geometric designs interlocking for added stability. The road, while having obviously seen better days, was mostly intact. Large sconces marked the wall every hundred feet or so, although nearly half of the torches were missing.

Oghren let out a low whistle. "I still can't believe Bhelen tracked this place down. This used to be one of the biggest crossroads in the old empire. You could get _anywhere_ from here... Including Ortan Thaig." He pointed to the ceiling. "Feel that? Fresh air. Vents bring it straight from the surface, all the way down here." Oghren smiled proudly. "Dwarven engineering is second to none."

Serena breathed deeply, the cooler air did incredible things towards making her feel better. She hadn't realized what a toll being underground was until they'd spent a whole day cycle without seeing the sun, or the stars.

"So, do you see any sign of Branka yet? You mentioned she used to mark the walls?"

"Not a one, but trust me, we will once we're on the path to the old Ortan Thaig. She told me she was heading for Caridin's home."

"This Caridin... he was also a Paragon, I assume?"

"Yep. Master smith, created the Anvil of the Void, which in turn, was used to create golems." Oghren gazed around the abandoned thaig, almost wistful. "With it, Orzammar had a hundred years of peace, with the golems protecting us from the darkspawn."

"But it was lost."

"Aye. Don't know much about that. Branka spent hours in the Shaperate, though, digging up whatever she could get her hands on." He flipped his back around, rooting around inside it. "Got some of her notes, in fact... Pretty sure we need to head down this tunnel, leads to Ortan Thaig."

Serena peered into the giant hole in the wall that was supposedly the route to Branka's last known whereabouts. "Ah, you don't think we shouldn't just... follow this road? This safe, little road?"

"Nah, definitely this way." Oghren rubbed the side of the tunnel. "See this? One of her marks."

Serena checked on the others. Everyone seemed in fine spirits. They hadn't run into anything more dangerous than a nug in some time now, though deeper... who knew what they would come across. She whistled to Peanut, who was dutifully keeping pace at her side.

"Hey boy, could you scout ahead for us?"

The mabari sniffed around the tunnel opening before barking once and disappearing inside.

"You ever... ride that thing?" Oghren's normally gruff voice was unexpectedly thoughtful.

She turned slowly towards the dwarf, her eyebrows in her hair. "You mean my warhound? Are you asking if I ever ride my warhound?"

At her look, the dwarf's beard twitched. "Sod it. Nevermind."

Serena chuckled at the thought of Oghren riding on the back of her mabari. "He's not a bloody horse."

"'Bout as big as one," Oghren insisted. "Just thinking... a little chariot or something..."

"Are you drunk?" She eyed his waterskin warily. "There's alcohol in that, isn't there?"

"What does _that_ have to do with anything?"

"Nothing, apparently," Serena said with a heavy sigh.


	62. Chapter 62

**Author's Note:** This chapter has a few of my favorite things- one of the best banters in the game, courtesy of our favorite drunken dwarf, and one of my favorite minor characters. I also butcher Latin pretty badly, as the DA wiki doesn't have much on Arcanum, the language of the Tevinter Imperium. Alas! (I'd post here what it says, but that would be a spoiler, so I'll post the rough translation in the next chapter's A/N.) Thanks everyone for the reviews and follows and all around awesome feedback!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 62<span> - _Breaking __the __Girl_

It wasn't long before they sensed the darkspawn. Peanut had returned quickly enough, alerting them through a series of barks, which Serena found she could interpret just as easily as if the hound was speaking the King's Tongue. Glancing at her new bracers, she smiled, the lyrium tickling at her just a bit.

Caridin's Cross quickly led out to a deeper cavern after that, where hot lava flowed freely below them, unconfined by the dwarven craftsmanship in the city. Darkspawn inhabited these new areas, working ancient forges that spewed out huge plumes of smoke.

"You ready for this, Legs?" Oghren called, a giant two-handed great sword was already in his hands. He took a couple practice swings, and Serena found herself marveling at how well balanced the weapon appeared to be for his short, stocky frame.

"Is that to be my permanent nickname now?" Serena pulled her bow, already aiming an ice-tipped arrow. Letting it fly, she grinned as it connected, landing right in an on-coming hurlock's throat. "I'll have you know this isn't my first showdown, Ginger."

"Yeah, we're professionals!" Alistair ran past with Maric's sword in hand, the runes along its blade glowing brightly against the darkspawn. Whipping his shield around, he barreled into a trio of fat genlocks, knocking them back as Sten swiftly executed them with his own sword.

Alim sprinted forward next, surprisingly fast for a mage. A spell shot out of his hand, paralyzing two darkspawn, and he turned and flung his staff in an arc, cracking the skull of a third. Leliana came to stand beside Serena, and together they picked off the rest of the darkspawn heading for the mage.

Morrigan aimed a well-placed fireball at the darkspawn forge, causing the entire thing to explode. A small group of darkspawn went flying backwards and the witched laughed, throwing another spell at them that burned them up.

"They have an emissary!" Alistair yelled, his location only visible by his blue sword. Serena saw him slash through another hurlock, trying to make his way to the magic-wielding darkspawn.

"Focus on him," Serena called to Leliana, pointing at the fat darkspawn. "I think he's leading the horde of them down here."

"There's more over the bridge!" Alim called from the right. "They've got a... a big one!"

Serena cursed. "Zevran! Come with me! Leliana, cover them, and keep on that emissary-" Sprinting after the assassin, they crossed the bridge, catching up with Alim and Serena's mabari. "The ogre's neck is the most vulnerable, unless you can get to its' back!"

"I'll try to paralyze it," Alim called, running for cover behind a pillar. "But it might be too big-"

There was a bright explosion right at the ogre's feet as Serena realized Zevran had thrown one of his homemade fire bombs. "I did not think your flip trick would work this time, Serena!" The ogre bellowed, trying to stomp out the raging fire at its feet as Serena nocked another arrow in her bow.

The next few minutes were a confused mess of people rushing by in a blur. Darkspawn surged in from a side tunnel, howling and gnashing their sharp teeth as they waved crude weapons in a threatening display. At some point Serena noticed Morrigan run past as a bear, charging into a crowd of the fiends, stomping half of them to death right out. Her fury mixing with exhilaration over the kills, and Serena felt it, felt the vivacity of her emotions... It was almost overpowering her own thoughts.

Alistair's blue sword swung by as Serena emptied her quiver and tried to switch to her daggers, planning to join him in fighting off a pack of genlocks that was trying to surround Peanut. The dog howled, long and low in an effort to stun the surrounding fiends and Serena was overcome with the dog's mind as a rush of pure energy, no, pure _terror_ enveloped her. What were they doing to her hound?

"Peanut! _Peanut, __no!_" Her shout was anguished as she saw Sten hurry to join Alistair in the melee, swords slashing, both desperate to reach her mabari before... before... "_Noooo!_"

Then there was someone's voice, someone was cursing nearby, and a wave of... something fell over her again. Fear mixing with something else, something more primal, more urgent. Her stomach lurched and she felt like collapsing.

Swaying on her feet, she felt hands tug her out of the way, the rough stone of the chamber digging against her leggings, ripping open holes as she was dragged into an alcove. Clutching her head, she heard the soothing voice of Wynne murmuring a chant as another pair of hands examined her.

"Serena? Serena, can you hear me?" It was Alim's voice. "I need you to keep your eyes closed and focus on my voice. Just on my voice. Can you do that?" She heard him curse as another wave of energy rolled over her and she whimpered.

"Peanut-"

"He's fine, he's fine! Just focus on my voice!" Alim sounded desperate and she tried to block out the feelings, tried to do as he asked... but the terror, it felt so real... and the ogre... the others...

" Alim..." She reached out for his hand, felt him clutch hers tightly, and fainted.

* * *

><p>Alim stayed with Serena during the rest of the battle, unable to move away from her. His guilt held him rooted to the spot, it seemed. But as soon as the last darkspawn fell, Alistair was there, wiping blood off his face and hands as he kneeled beside the mage.<p>

He hadn't meant to hit her with the spell. It was an accident. And combined with her new abilities... Alim glanced over at Wynne as she sat next to Serena, healing the various cuts and scrapes from the battle. Alistair held her propped against his chest, Serena's head resting in the crook of his neck, as if she were simply taking a quick catnap.

If she hadn't run in front of him... Well, there was nothing to be done for it now. He had intended to hit that enormous hurlock with the enchantment. It was called Horror, and it did exactly what it sounded like. If it had been anyone else, it simply would have caused them to be stunned, or perhaps even knocked down. But with Serena's hound being attacked by the small horde of darkspawn, barking madly as he fought them off, and Morrigan also shifted... her mind had picked up on their unique energies, causing the spell to go haywire.

Pale and shaking, he had grabbed her from the melee, dragged her to where he and Wynne were secluded, Wynne's glyph of repulsion glowing on the ground nearby. Serena had been barely conscious then, slipping in and out, and he had tried weaving the counterspell to no avail. She fainted, clutching his hand in a vice-like grip, and there was nothing to be done for her until the others finished off the rest of those... monsters.

Alistair had been full of questions, of course. _What __had __happened?_ She had been beside him, and then she wasn't. He'd heard her scream for the hound, which Wynne had healed after he nearly lost a leg to the frenzied beasts, but then when he had searched for her...

The blonde man looked utterly miserable without her, Alim saw. He hadn't noticed how close they were, except for a few touches here and there, and the teasing from the day before, but seeing them now... He was obviously deeply in love with the girl, and worried about her shallow breathing.

"I'm... I'm sorry-" Alim spluttered again. He'd already said it twenty times, maybe more, but the look on Alistair's face... on all their faces. They blamed him for this. For the fall of their leader. "It was an accident-"

"I know, Alim," Alistair said softly. He brushed aside a lock of Serena's hair that had come loose, leaning her down to rest in his lap. "We've all accidently hurt each other, it's... it's what happens. In the fury of battle." His honey eyes stared into Alim's brown ones sadly as he traced an angry scar that ran down her thigh. "My sword did that... We all make mistakes."

A heavy silence descended after that. Everyone found things to do for awhile, whether it be checking and re-checking their supplies, or simply dawdling around their makeshift camp for want of something to do.

Eventually Morrigan's cool voice broke the silence.

"While I am just as... _concerned_... for Serena's state as anyone, I suggest we move on."

"I'm not leaving her," Alistair said brusquely. "_We_ are not leaving her."

"'Tis not what I suggested." Morrigan glanced at Oghren, who nodded. "The dwarf says we're near this Ortan Thaig. I suggest we carry Serena there, then camp for the night. It will be evening soon enough, and that way, we won't have lost too much time."

Alistair appeared torn at the prospect of moving Serena in this state. Looking from Serena's prone form to the faces of the others, a flutter of emotions crossed his face before he seemed to make a decision. "Alright. I'll carry her if someone can take our packs."

"I'll take them," Alim volunteered quickly. "It's the least I can do." Alistair handed him the two backpacks, hefting Serena into his arms easily.

"Let me know if you become wary, Warden. I will carry her if you need. The assassin has also volunteered."

Alistair nodded, though his face had a hard look that said nobody would be touching Serena but him. "Thanks, Sten. I'll keep that in mind."

They moved on then, each companion keeping a wide berth from Alistair as he carried Serena along. Alim couldn't help but peek over every minute or so, as if to reassure himself that she was still there, that she was still breathing. She looked tiny in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder as they marched through the tunnels.

It was another hour or so of walking before the dwarf spoke out again. "This looks like the right way out. Ortan Thaig. It won't be long now."

Oghren was leading them at the front, with Morrigan at his side. She hadn't really struck him as the leader type, but perhaps her relationship with Serena was more complicated than he thought, and this was her way of keeping her mind of their leader's current... condition.

Alim was still glancing over at Serena, he had gotten it down to every few minutes now, when Wynne came up to him. The older mage must have noticed his distraught face for she reached over, gently clasping his hand. "There is... perhaps something we can do. It would... weaken you and I, and possibly Morrigan, but I think it is worth a shot, to try to bring her back... quickly." Alim simply nodded. Anything would be better than this shroud of guilt he seemed to be wearing over Serena's borrowed cloak.

"Alistair, I have been thinking..." Wynne's voice was quiet as she quickened her pace to match that of the tall templar. "There is a spell, I have only used it in practice before, but... it may help."

"I'm not sure another spell is what she needs right now, Wynne," Alistair replied. He glanced down at Serena and sighed. "What... what kind of spell is it?"

"It is called 'mana cleanse'," Wynne replied. "A mage expels nearly all their mana in an effort to... nullify the mana of enemies. In this case, that would be Serena."

"Wait, so you think... you think she's casting some sort of spell on herself?" Alistair shifted her in his arms and Alim wondered how the man was still carrying her upright at all. He must be very strong or very dedicated. "Is it those gauntlets?"

"Possibly. But with the mana around her depleted, she should wake up if it's a magically induced sleep," Alim added. "In theory."

"And what happens to you?" he asked. "Would you guys be able to cast?"

"No, not if... well, Morrigan and I would have to move far away while Wynne casted it, in order to not be affected. Or I could try casting it?" He stared at his boots, unable to look either in the face. "Wynne is much more useful than I am, anyway... so..."

Alistair frowned, setting Serena gently down on the tunnel floor. "What do I have to do?"

"Nothing, really. You can stay. It may take a few minutes for anything to happen." Alim turned to Wynne. "I think you should go down there with Morrigan. I'll do the spell. I owe Serena that much."

"What is going on? Do you need me to carry Serena?" Zevran had glided back to them, his eyes surveying the scene, Serena's mabari at his side, limping slightly. Wynne nodded to Alim before walking back to where Zevran had come from to join the others.

"Alim is going to try a spell. To... to wake up Serena."

Zevran's eyebrow raised just slightly. "And are we sure that is wise?"

"It's all we have," Alistair replied with a sigh. He rubbed his temples, eyes on the ceiling. "I just want her back, Zev. I need her."

Alim knocked back a vial of lyrium and grimaced, the bitter taste was one he'd never get used to. Ignoring Zevran's accusing amber eyes, he kneeled at Serena's side. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hands on the girl's armor, trying to focus his will at her. He could feel the magic come to him easily, a purplish-blue color pulsing just beyond his hands. Alim began the chant.

"_Desino __via __defluo __umo __magis. __Excito __haec __femina. __Desino __via __defluo __umo __magis. __Excito __haec __femina. __Desino __via __defluo __umo __magis. __Excito __haec __femina._"

As he chanted, he could feel it working, could feel her hanging there, just beyond his reach. With a great metaphysical tug, he pulled at her spirit, yanking it back into her body.

Serena gasped suddenly, her chest expanding as her lungs filled with air. Her body erupted into a series of quick spasms as she was overtaken in a coughing fit, Alistair reaching to help her sit upright.

"_Desino __via __defluo __umo __magis. __Excito __haec __femina."_

"Serena? Are you awake?"

Her eyes opened slowly, the blue orbs were wide and confused. "I... I... I'm b-back? Oh, thank the Maker..." Tears slipped down her cheeks as she reached for Alistair's neck, desperate to draw him closer. "How? How did you-?"

Alim sat back against the wall, his own mana completely spent as an effect of the spell. He'd never felt so relieved to perform a spell right in his life. Running his hand over his forehead, it came back sweaty.

"Alim. He did a spell." Alistair crawled forward, pulling her into a hug, relief etched all over his face. "Oh, Maker, I thought... what happened? Where... where _were_ you?"

"The Fade," Alim answered. "Right?"

"Yes, I... there was something, and then a spell hit me and it... it passed through me, pushed my... pushed me into the Fade again." Serena shook her head, as if to clear it of a ghost. "Niall was there, he... he led me to Alim. That's how I got back. He was anchored in both places, here and the Fade." She turned to Alim, grasping his hands gratefully. "You s-saved my life, Alim. Thank you."

Alim nodded weakly. "I... it was nothing. I'm just glad you're back."

"Did it work?" Leliana's shout echoed down the tunnel.

"Yes, she's awake! Alim did it!" Alistair pulled Serena to her feet, Zevran moving to help Alim up. Within seconds the rest of the group was there, the redheaded bard in the front, sprinting down the tunnel to wrap Serena in a big hug.

"We were so worried! Thank the Maker you're alright!" Next she turned to Alim, wrapping him in a similar embrace. "You saved her, Alim! You and Wynne are miracle-workers!"

"Ah, do not crush their ribs, my dear," Zevran said teasingly, pulling the enthusiastic redhead off the pair. "They are both weak from the effort involved, I'm sure."

"Let's hope their aren't more darkspawn waiting down the bend," Alim muttered, one hand pushing his spiky hair back. "Otherwise I'm using one of you as a shield..."

* * *

><p>"By the tits of my ancestors... Ortan Thaig. I <em>never<em> thought I'd see this place in the flesh."

The thaig was even grander than Caridin's Cross, in Serena's opinion. Somehow the dwarves had managed to create some sort of lighting system that reflected off of mirrors set in the walls, throwing back golden light from what had to be a sunset on the surface.

"It's beautiful, Oghren," Serena murmured, standing next to the smaller man. Yellow stones created a long road that ran perpendicular to the tunnel they had just emerged from.

The dwarf wandered over to one of the walls, his fingers rubbing along the edges. "I can see Branka all over this place. She always took chips from the walls at regular intervals when she was in a new tunnel- to check their composition." He gazed across the expanse, frowning. "If she was still here, though, she'd have sentries out by now."

It was only minutes later when the sunset began to fade, throwing the thaig into near darkness. Wynne and Alim lit their staves, while Morrigan sent up a trio of fireballs to re-light the torches that dotted the walls. The flickering lights threw heavy shadows across them all, and Serena unconsciously moved closer to Alistair.

"We should probably get moving, find a suitable place to camp for the night before... you know, beasties start their evening hunts."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Oghren replied, striding down the road and disappearing into another tunnel. Another hour of walking yielded them a few more battles with small groups of darkspawn, which Serena and Alim were carefully kept out of, and an ambush from a group of spiders Oghren referred to as 'thaig crawlers'.

"Aye, this looks like as good as a place as any, Wardens," the dwarf said, dropping his pack near what had been a dwarven house. "Easily defensible from the east, north and south."

They split up into two groups, half staying to set up tents and bedrolls, with Leliana and Morrigan working on prepping a meal, and the others going to find anything that could be used to sustain a fire. After helping set up the tents, Serena wandered around the group of houses, her curiosity getting the best of her. Casually trying the locks, she pulled a pin from her hair and picked one open, slipping inside.

Squinting in the low light, Serena could see the house was mostly picked over already; an overturned table and chairs, some broken bits of tableware, a ruined painting hung on the wall.

"Out, get out! This is _my_ place! These are all mine!"

Serena shrieked, stumbling back against the wall. "Maker's breath, you scared the... who are you?"

"You've... you've come to take my claim! Thieving surfacers... scoundrels..." The stubbly dwarf moved out of the darkness just a bit, crouching awkwardly. His voice was a fierce whisper as he clutched at the old cushion of a chair. "I found it first!"

"I didn't... I'm not here to take anything from you." Serena pushed herself onto her knees and breathed deep, trying to slow her racing heartbeat. "I was just looking for information-"

"B-Begone, you! You'll bring the dark ones back, you will! They'll crunch your bones!" The bizarre man quaked before hobbling off through a hole in back of the house, his muttering echoing back to her.

A gloved hand touched Serena's arm and she yelped again, clapping her hand over her mouth as Oghren grinned. "Bit jumpy, eh, Legs?"

"Ah, yeah, sorry. There was just... a man here. Unless I'm going crazy..." Serena sighed, rubbing her temples. "Which isn't so far off to imagine down here, I suppose. How did you-"

"Saw you slip off, got curious." The dwarf shrugged, glancing around the house. "Said you saw someone, eh? Word has it you can only survive down here by eating the darkspawn dead." Oghren frowned. "It brings the taint, of course. Turns their brains to sewage, but it hides them from the darkspawn." He put a hand on Serena's arm again, careful not to startle her. "Come on, let's get you a meal, aye?"

* * *

><p>It was well past midnight when she awoke to a hand clamping over her mouth.<p>

"Shhh, pretty lady. Ruck has come to help you. Ruck won't hurt pretty lady if she promises not to shout."

Serena nodded fervently, her eyes looking about the tent quickly. How he had gotten in without Alistair or Oghren seeing him was beyond her. Perhaps he'd snuck in the back?

"W-what do you want, err, Ruck? That is your name, right? Ruck?"

The dwarf nodded, staring at her intently. "Pretty lady... pretty eyes, pretty hair... smells like the steam of burning water, blue as the deepest rock... so pretty when she rests her head."

Serena gulped, uneasy that this man had been here Maker knows how long, simply watching her sleep. Her hands itched for her daggers, but they were in her belt, feet away, behind this dwarven man. This... Ruck.

"You said you could help me, Ruck?"

"Ruck not pretty name, not like pretty lady. Ruck is small and ugly and twisted." Serena's gut twisted sharply as the dwarf turned, and she could see a dark splotch discolored his neck. The taint. "Pretty lady has the darkness in her, yes, but not like poor Ruck."

Serena sighed. She would apparently have to indulge his madness a bit to get information. Assuming he had any useful information to give. "You've eaten them, haven't you? The darkspawn."

"Once you eat... once you takes in the darkness... you not miss the light so much." Ruck rubbed at his face with the back of his hand, the fingers looking gnarled. "Ruck sees, yes. He sees the darkness inside you."

"I'm... I'm a Grey Warden. It isn't... it isn't quite the same." She prayed it wasn't quite the same.

"Grey like the stone. Guardian against the darkness. Beautiful... like waterfalls under the lichen. I hid, when the dark ones were here. They leave you alone if you are like them, in the darkness. But now they're gone."

Serena nodded, processing this. So the darkspawn were here, but they'd since moved on. "Do you know where the darkspawn went, Ruck?"

"I thinks they went south, pretty lady. Far, far, far to the south. That is where the dark master calls them with his beautiful voice. So much joy when he awoke!"

The archdemon. He had to be talking about the archdemon. But did he mean southern Ferelden or just... south of here? Or were they the same? Was the archdemon near them now? She found herself wishing for the dwarven stone sense.

"After the dark master awoke, he called his children and they all went," Ruck continued in his hoarse whisper. "I wanted to go, too, and gaze upon his beauty... But Ruck is a c-coward." He reached for Serena then and she had to fight the urge to pull back. "I came to show you, pretty lady. To show you what you came for."

"I... alright. What do I have to do?"

"Follow Ruck. He shows pretty lady."

* * *

><p>Crawling out of the back of her tent, Serena followed Ruck through the shadows and into a small cave. She prayed her trust in this peculiar dwarf wasn't misplaced, and he didn't intend to kill her once he got her away from the relative safety of camp.<p>

Serena gazed around the cave. A few worn mats crisscrossed the floor and a half-broken tent still stood in the back. She imagined that was where Ruck slept, if he slept at all. Scorch marks covered the floors where there were no mats; it looks as if there had once been quite a few fires here.

"This place, it was once for the woman and her house." Ruck hobbled into a small cave, where a tiny fire was burning. "They come for the shinies, but then they go. Leave lots, and Ruck finds it."

"This was Branka's camp, you mean? Did you find anything here?"

"Bits of things, only bits. The crawlers took almost everything." Ruck dug in an old chest, pulling out a few sheets of papers. "They takes things of steel, things of paper. Takes the shinies and the words, but Ruck- he protected _these_." The dwarf thrust the papers into Serena's hands, smiling a crooked grin, though with the patches of taint that traveled up his face, the effect was more unsettling than anything else.

"I... um... thank you, Ruck." Serena flipped through the pages, her eyes scanning them quickly. "These... are... these are from Branka's journal. Oh. Oh, dear." She looked up at the dwarf, a genuine smile gracing her pale features. "_Thank __you_, Ruck. This helps a lot!"

"Anything for the pretty lady," Ruck replied, bowing stiffly. "The nice man is lucky to have such a pretty lady on his arm."

Serena blinked. How long had he watched their camp then? Hours? Long enough to see her with Alistair, for surely he was the 'nice one' in this case. She couldn't imagine he meant any of the other men traveling in her company, except maybe Alim. He was very courteous, if not a bit ungainly around her now because of the... accident.

"Ruck has a shiny for the pretty lady, too, it matches her eyes."

Oh, sweet Maker, Serena thought. She knew that tone of voice, she'd heard it from plenty a nobleman's son, trying to win her heart, or perhaps her family's copious dowry, through generous gifts. The dwarf shambled up to her, dropping a small blue ring into her palm.

"Our symbol it has. The last of my house, I was."

Serena stared at the ring in her hand, her heart felt heavy. "I can't take this, Ruck. This belongs to you-"

"No, no, no! Ruck is a twisted thing. No pretties for Ruck." The dwarf clutched his head. "Please, pretty lady. Take it and go! Go, go, go, go!"

"I, okay... thank you, Ruck!" Serena backed up from the shaking man, wishing she'd thought to grab her blades before she left the tent. "Thank you for all your help." Clutching the ring and the papers, she ran out of the cave and back down the tunnel.

* * *

><p>"Rolling your oats. Polishing the footstones. Tappin' the midnight still, if you will."<p>

"What are you going on about?" Alistair's voice carried out to Serena as she ducked behind a broken partition of wall. They couldn't have much longer on watch, she thought.

"Forging the moaning statue," Oghren continued. "Bucking the forbidden horse. Donning the velvet hat. Eh? Eh." The dwarf laughed to himself, and Serena could picture him leering at Alistair. Oh boy. She should have never told that man they were involved...

"Are you making these up right now? Honestly." Alistair chuckled, and she imagined him leaning back, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "Donning the velvet hat? What does that even _mean_?"

"Not as experienced as you thought, boy, if you can't figure _that_ one out." Moving carefully, Serena propped herself up on the wall just outside the rim of the firelight, the papers Ruck had given her laid out neatly on her lap.

"I rather think I look terrible in velvet, personally," she said quietly. "Makes me look fat."

"Sweet Maker, Serena!" Alistair exclaimed, slipping off the rock he was seated on. "You nearly scared me to death..." He stood up, squinting into the darkness. "How in the realm did you get out there?"

"Magic," she replied, hopping down and moving into the light. She sat down next to Oghren on the block of broken rock he occupied and pushed the papers into his hands. "You may recognize these."

"This is Branka's handwriting," the dwarf said gruffly. "I'd know it anywhere. Where'd you find these?"

"You know that someone I thought I saw before? He came to my tent and gave me these." Serena didn't need to tell them that she snuck out of camp unarmed to follow a possibly insane, tainted dwarven man down a deserted tunnel to the cave he squatted in. Alistair would probably tie her hands together and sling her over his shoulder to make sure she didn't do that, or anything _like_ that, ever again. "She was headed for something called the Dead Trenches it says. Do you... know what that means?"

"They say the darkspawn nest there, whole herds of 'em." Oghren shrugged, as if the thought of running into an entire horde of the fiends didn't bother him one bit. Considering his rather berserk fighting style, maybe it really didn't. "But if that's where Branka went, then that's where I'm going."

"Then that's where _we're_ going," Serena corrected, patting the dwarf on the back.


	63. Chapter 63

**Author's Note:** Thanks everyone for the reviews and story adds and favorites! It's so crazy to think so many people have thought this story worthy of their time. Thank you, thank you, thank you!  
>In other news, the translation from last chapter, in case you wondered! "<em>Cease the flow of magic. Release this woman<em>."

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 63<span> - _Shake __the __Disease_

They were walking south, steadily making their way towards the darkspawn. The deeper they went, the more Alistair's blood tingled. He could feel it in Serena, as well, and he longed to protect her from the ache that would surely overcome them when they hit the bulk of the horde, knowing it would be worse for her.

Of course, that was assuming the archdemon hadn't taken the horde topside already. It was next to impossible to know what was happening up there from... down here.

The tunnels were an endless jumble of dead ends, loops, and wrong turns. Even with Oghren's stone sense, they had gotten turned around more than once, only to run into a group of giant man-eating spiders or worse, strange apparitions bent on cutting them down.

But more than anything, Alistair missed the sun. He missed the warmth he felt walking under it's bright light, missed how it caused Serena's hair to tinge with red at sunset. He missed seeing its rays reflect off Lake Calenhad.

He knew he wasn't alone, though. That morning he had caught Serena praying softly at the back of their tent, her eyes closed, looking just as she had when he'd first seen her pray at Ostagar after her Joining.

"I don't know if You can hear me down here, my Maker. We walk now where the beasts You threw out of Your Kingdom may haunt us, may stalk us in greater numbers than we may be able to fend off. I pray You watch over us, sweet Maker, that You do not abandon us in this pursuit, so we may feel Your light upon our skin once more. I pray that we feel Your sweet embrace touch our hearts as we walk among the stone. Amen."

She had turned then, perhaps she knew he was listening, perhaps she'd heard him breathing behind her. Wrapping her arms around him, they sat for awhile, simply holding each other and not speaking, neither of them really having to say anything. Serena's prayer had said it all for them.

Now they were another day into the deep, getting closer to what the dwarves called the Dead Trenches. Alistair had already perused the notes Serena had... _acquired_. He dare not think too hard about a stranger being in their tent; especially what kind of man would live down _here_, among the darkspawn. She had been elusive at best about the clandestine meeting, and he was content to let it be, for now.

Despite having gone over the papers multiple times, Alim had insisted on reading the journal of sorts out loud, intent on drawing more information out of the words. Alistair had to admit; the elf had a remarkable knack for being able to decipher the dwarven woman's hasty scribbles, though he sucked all the drama out of it in his reading.

"We found... evidence? I think it says evidence. We found evidence today that the Anvil of the Void was not built in Ortan Thaig. We will... go south. To the Dead Trenches. The Anvil is somewhere beyond. My soldiers tell me I am... sad. Sad?" Alim shook his head ruefully. "No, mad? Mad. My soldiers tell me I am _mad_, that the Dead Trenches are crawling with darkspawn, that we will surely die before we find the Anvil... If we find it."

"I leave these notes here in case they're right. If I die in the Trenches, perhaps someone can yet walk past my... copse? Oh, corpse. Of course. Perhaps someone can yet walk past my corpse and retrieve the Anvil."

"Sunny lady, your wife." Alistair scowled, glancing at Oghren as they walked. "That's definitely a picture I want in my head down here."

"It says more," the elf continued, reading the parchment in his rich baritone voice. "If I have not returned and Oghren yet lives, tell him..." He paused, frowning. "No, what I have to say should be... for his ears alone."

"Good advice, that," the dwarf said gruffly. "Unless you have any more fun facts about my wife you'd like to expound on us."

"That's what it says?" Serena asked. "It just... ends with that?"

"This is my farewell," Alim finished. He shrugged, handing the papers back to Serena. "That's it."

"How depressing." Leliana's fingers swept across the strings of her lute, playing a quick melody, as if her music alone could ward off the gloom. "So she brought the entire house down here? How many people is that?"

"Around a hundred, give or take," Oghren replied, not looking at the bard. Leliana whistled low, but otherwise didn't comment further. Alistair thought it smart of her.

"Right, so... any idea how far off we are from these Dead Trenches?" Serena was obviously trying to lighten the mood, although how well she was doing, Alistair couldn't gauge. Everyone seemed simultaneously on edge and weary.

"Aye, the Fortress of Bownammar is supposedly just up this way, if this map of Bhelen's is worth the sodding parchment it's printed on." The dwarf led them out of the tunnel, Serena at his side. An enormous bridge loomed ahead, with what Alistair assumed was lava running deep below.

"Oh... oh, sweet Maker." Serena dropped to her knees at the edge of the cliff, her shoulders slumping. Beside her, Oghren seemed to go white, the knot in his throat bouncing slightly as he gulped.

"Did I say herds?" he muttered. "Meant to say the whole sodding lot of 'em are down here."

Alistair stepped to the edge, peering over as Serena clutched his leg protectively. What he had thought was the glow of hot lava was actually the light from hundreds, possibly thousands of torches below, held up by marching darkspawn. Alistair sunk down to the ground, his stomach clenching uncomfortably as he realized what it meant.

They were marching for the surface.

"Did you see it?" Serena whispered fiercely beside him, her hands grabbing for his arm now. "Did you _see_ it, Alistair?"

"See what-"

Then it zoomed up. On wings as black as night, careening through the air, it circled like a giant bat, and Alistair head exploded in pain. Landing on a higher bridge, the archdemon faced away from them and spewed a long purple stream of... Fire? Magic? Alistair had no idea.

Beside him, Serena was covering her ears, her forehead pressed to the stone below. A tiny whimper escaped her and he put his arms around her smaller form, hugging her close as she shook. Serena's mabari edged close to them, pushing his nose into her hair and snuffling softly.

With another ear-splitting shriek, the archdemon belched another flame of purple and spread it's great wings wide. Alistair felt his blood boil as it took off again, flying further down the trench to where the darkspawn were headed. Presumably, to the surface.

"That's... _that's_ the bloody archdemon? Sodding..." Oghren shook his head, his sentence devolving into a string of dwarven curses.

"I thought the high dragon was big." Zevran chuckled, though it had none of his usual mirth as the elf had no color in his normally tan cheeks at all. "_Braska_, I think I just pissed myself."

"You aren't alone," Wynne said quietly, her steely blue eyes locked on where the great purplish dragon had flown off. "At least we know what we're facing now."

"Oh yes, there is that," Zevran replied, rolling his eyes. "I would rather not happen upon the thing down here where it is already so dark and doleful, but alas. At least the purple fire really brightens things up, don't you think?"

"Only you could make jokes when faced with _that_, elf," Morrigan said caustically.

"We should move on, if... if everyone is ready." Serena stood up, her blue eyes still wide with trepidation as she wiped the dust from her armor. "We should just... _go_."

"Are you okay?" Alistair whispered. It was a stupid thing to say. He wasn't quite sure _he_ was okay, but it seemed like the chivalrous thing to ask.

Serena shook her head and shrugged, as if to say there was nothing to be done for what she felt, for what they felt as Wardens, especially down _here_. "It... it didn't eat us, so let's just... I can't imagine we have that much luck left, so let's just go."

* * *

><p>"The Legion gives no quarter! Send 'em to the stone!"<p>

They had reached the Fortress of Bownammar at last. Surprisingly, a group of dwarves stood outside, great swords, axes, and mauls already cutting into a small group of darkspawn that had surged across another smaller bridge. Itching for something to do after the fearful visit from the archdemon, Serena and her companions had sprinted headlong to the group to help.

"They think to breach Orzammar? They're breathing smoke... if we let them breathe at all!" The tattooed dwarf swung an enormous sword, easily cleaving a hurlock in two.

"Let them come!" another dwarf yelled enthusiastically, slamming his maul down. The skull of another darkspawn exploded out as the weapon smashed it, the man shouting victoriously as he ran to engage another. "It saves us the walk to their lairs!"

"Oh, I _like_ these guys!" Serena called, whipping her daggers around to gut a fat genlock. "Let's see you fiends overwhelm all of us!" She flipped backwards, kicking a large shriek onto Zevran's long dagger as he brought the other around to slice its head from its body.

"Lovely, my dear," the elf said, sliding his dagger into another darkspawn that thought to sneak up behind him. Serena's mabari was near, shaking the arm of a hurlock off in his jaws. "It really is quite something to find such enthusiasm in one's companions!"

Hurling the arm away, the dog barked its agreement, readying itself to barrel into the next opponent. Zevran laughed, slamming his dagger down into the skull of a downed fiend. "I agree, my good friend. Go team! Hurrah!"

Finishing off the darkspawn quickly with the dwarves help, the stockiest of the warriors ambled up to the companions, putting out an armored hand to Serena.

"Atrast vala, Grey Wardens. I'm Kardol, Commander of this unit."

"Grey Warden Commander Serena Cousland. A pleasure to meet you."

"Have to say, in all my time down here, I've never seen one of your kind in the Deep Roads."

"You don't sound very surprised, though," Serena replied, smiling at the ichor-splattered lead dwarf as she shook his hand with her much small one.

"In the Legion of the Dead, we abandon our lives to be free of fear, free of hopeful blindness. The coming Blight is obvious to us. The surprise is not that you have come, but that you have come in so small a number." He eyed their group steadily, his beard twitching slightly in a returning smile. "What do you want here, Warden?"

"We're here as a favor to Prince Bhelen. We need to find the Paragon Branka to end the stalemate for king." Serena stared into the eyes of the dwarf. "We need our strongest allies to end the Blight, and I believe you know as well as I do, that's the dwarves."

"Ha! True enough," Kardol replied. "Though it's an odd tactic, recruiting from the frontline. The darkspawn pitch their camps in _our_ tunnels between your "Blights", you know. Give me a dwarven reason to look topside."

"Commander Kardol, I'm Prince Alistair Theirin," Alistair said, bowing his head slightly to the shorter man. "It is my understanding that your men's past... mistakes... are expunged with your recruitment into the Legion. Is that correct?"

"Aye, we fight the darkspawn until our deaths. Upon our return to the Stone, our names are cleared, as are those of our families." Kardol exchanged a look with one of his men. "What are you getting at?"

Alistair grinned. "Simply that if you are already dead... what holds you back from helping us?"

"Eh, it's not my job to shore up to the Assembly chasing dead legends. The Legion holds a line so those fools have time to put an ass on the throne. But seeing as you and your lot have helped us push the line back further, I'd make you a deal. We get a king out of this little quest of yours, then I'll see to it my men join you to battle this Blight with whatever Bhelen can muster up from the city. How's that?"

"I don't think we could ask for better, Commander," Serena replied, nodding her head. "Your men are fine warriors, and it would be our honor to fight beside them once again."

"Yeah, well, save your flattery for the deep lords in the Assembly, missy," Kardol replied, though he was smiling. "Anything else we can help you with?"

"Not unless you know where we might find the Anvil of the Void," said Oghren.

The Commander laughed heartily, as if Oghren was having him on. "We look like we're fighting with golems? If you're after that, I wish you luck, Wardens. You'll need it."

* * *

><p>Beyond the Fortress of Bownammar, they marched forward, deeper into the Dead Trenches and through more dwarven ruins. Darkspawn had ravaged the place, and their group fought them relentlessly as they went. Wave after wave, in every chamber, every room they went through.<p>

Wynne felt filthy down to her very bones, and she was obviously the cleanest out of the lot of them, having stayed out of the majority of the hand-to-hand combat as a mage. Sweat mixed with dirt and blood on her robes and she tutted, knowing the stains would never come out. They were ground in much too deeply now.

For their part, the two Grey Wardens were as unrelenting as the darkspawn much of the time. They walked side by side, a shield of resolve against the horde. Wynne found herself marveling at how two people as young as Serena and Alistair held their duty to such a high regard. When she had been their age, she hadn't been nearly as reliable... as filled with arrogance as she had been.

A twinge of guilt twisted Wynne's insides as she walked after them. Despite her earlier admonishments, she truly hoped the best for the two young people. Though now it seemed unlikely they would ever lead a normal life, not with Arl Eamon pushing Alistair ever closer to the throne of Ferelden.

She wondered where that left Serena in the mix, however. Surely they had spoken about the future, at least somewhat. Serena was too practical to let the unknown hang between them like some sort of specter of foreboding. It was no use worrying about it now, though. Beside her, Alim interrupted her circular thoughts, his features set in worry at her long silence.

"Do you miss it, Wynne? The Circle? The Tower?"

"Sometimes. It was my home." Wynne sighed. "I suppose you do not consider it so."

"I... don't know if I do. I have lived there since I was ten years old. That is thirteen years of being in one place, of being relatively safe." He glanced at her sidelong. "I did not choose to leave, you know. I am not... I am not an apostate by choice."

Wynne hadn't been expecting him to say that. She thought, much like herself when younger, every young mage wished for the freedom outside the Circle Tower. "It is unfortunate you were caught up in Jowan's actions, then."

"I'm not sorry, though," Alim amended. "I... I have been thinking… if Serena and Alistair would have me, I would like to join the Grey Wardens. Permanently."

Wynne raised an eyebrow. "That is… admirable, Alim. I hope... it is not because you wish to stay out of the tower."

"No, no," Alim said hastily. "As confining as it was at times, it is... _much_ harder out here. I've never... felt like I really belonged anywhere. Even in the tower, Jowan was really my... only real friend."

"I always assumed that was by choice," Wynne said quietly. "You appeared so... studious, it was one of the things I noticed about you. You spent a great deal of time in the library."

"Might as well read while you're hiding out, right? I mean, I love learning, I just... don't love getting called knife ear every other day or so." Alim sighed. "The Grey Wardens never made me feel like an outsider, though, even though you all found me in the employ of your enemy."

"It wouldn't be the first time Serena had rescued someone from Loghain's payroll," the white-haired woman replied. "Do you know Loghain hired Zevran as an assassin originally? To take care of the last of the Grey Wardens. When he failed, Serena refused to kill him, and he instead joined this group as a rather faithful companion ever since."

Alim whistled low. He hadn't heard that story yet, she supposed."I... suppose I have quite a good shot at them letting me in, then, huh? I didn't even _try_ to kill them."

"Just remember that like the Circle, the Grey Wardens is not without it's own difficulties. You see the duty required of you, I'm sure. Know that being a member of the Grey does not change the fact that you are a mage, and that people will still fear you before they get to know you."

Alim had opened his mouth to argue when Morrigan swept past, sneering openly. "Always with a kind word, aren't you, old woman?"

"Not to _you_ perhaps, dear," Wynne replied tersely. "I was simply telling Alim-"

"That perhaps he should relish his leash instead, as you do?"

"There are good reasons for the world to fear mages," Wynne said, her voice haughty and disaffected to match the dark haired witch. "Even despite our best intentions."

"Your best intentions, perhaps." Morrigan's golden yellow eyes brushed over them all, landing on Alistair at the front as he walked along next to their leader. "Their fear concerns me not at all."

"I'm not trying to escape the Circle-" Alim cut in. His voice held some of the hostility she had often heard from her own apprentices. "Is it so wrong to want to do something in my life? Instead of sit up in that tower and rot while there's peoples lives at stake."

"Look at you, Wynne. You're out here, fighting with them, helping to stop the Blight." The elf sighed, shaking his head. "I just want to do some _good_."

Morrigan snorted, rolling her eyes. "And just when you were getting _interesting_. Pity."

* * *

><p>Thick and hot and red. It grew up the walls. Just a little at first, though; peeking in from a crack in the ceiling, or slipping in through the spaces between the stones of the floor. One wouldn't even notice it really, if not for the smell.<p>

It was like death. Pungent and disgusting, it made Serena's stomach turn as they walked through the ruins, the tunnels becoming less branching, and more straightforward. There was only one way to go, as if the temple were leading them to the Anvil.

But within the tunnels there were more darkspawn lurking. Hurlocks, tall and powerfully built, but awkward in the way they wielded too-huge weapons in such close quarters. Genlocks, the shorter, stockier breed of darkspawn were better suited to the corridor fighting, fitting within the tighter spaces, though Serena's group still bested them easily. They outnumbered nearly every group of the fiends they came across, and the ceilings were too low to allow an ogre in, thankfully.

It had been hours of relentless back-and-forth. Walking, then stopping, then fighting and killing, only to repeat the pattern again in the next quarter of an hour. Serena's head was pounding from the constant nearness of the taint by the time they reached what she hoped was the end of the dwarven crypt. A large metal door separated them from what she hoped was their goal, but after pushing it back, she felt disappointment crush her again as yet another tunnel led forward.

Glancing over, she saw Alistair scrunch his face up in disgust. She imagined his blood was tingling just as hers was, the nearby darkspawn were pressing in on their senses from all sides.

"It's getting worse," he murmured in her ear, his breath fluttering the loose bits of hair that had come away from her braid. "Feels like... like it's growing or something. Pulsating." Beside her, Peanut whined his own displeasure at their surroundings.

It was true. This tunnel seemed to almost drip with the darkspawn's corruption. It was the same sick stuff they'd seen in the Tower of Ishal at Ostagar. Thick and red, almost thumping with its own sinister light... it covered the floors in spots now, too, and grew down from the ceiling in others. It reminded Serena of a gutted animal, turned inside out for tanning.

"I swear I heard it coming from down _here_..." Leliana was speaking quietly with Zevran nearby, pointing down a particularly corrupted passageway vehemently. "We should at least look."

"_First __day, __they __come... __and __catch __everyone_." It sounded almost like singing... Like an echo down the hall, or... something. Serena could make out the words, but they didn't make any sense. Who comes? The darkspawn?

Leliana's eyes widened as she looked back at them. "See? I _knew_ I heard something..." She started down the passage as Zevran grabbed her, holding her back until the others caught up from behind. Nobody wanted to move too far away from the group in this place.

"_Second __day, __they __beat __us... __and __eat __some __for __meat_." The haunting voice was back, louder this time, as if they were getting closer. Serena stopped the group, exchanging a significant look with Alistair, wanting his okay before they led them down this path. He looked hesitantly beyond, the mages staves only lighting the way so far.

"_Third __day, __the __men... __are __all __gnawed __on __again_."

"I am... unsure if I want to hear the rest of this poem," Zevran said, pulling one of his daggers. "I enjoy some rather kinky things, but none of them involve being gnawed on like a leg of lamb."

Serena smiled, though it was a hollow one. She could never understand how Zevran managed to find humor in just about everything, but she was thankful for it, nonetheless. It was a defense mechanism, surely, but he could always be counted on in the darkest of circumstances to throw out a joke or two.

"_Fourth __day, __we __wait... __and __fear __for __our __fate. __Fifth __day, __they __return... __and __it's __another __girl's __turn._"

The corruption was covering nearly everything as they made their way downward, further into a new crypt. Serena felt Wynne throw out a healing spell to her and Alistair, knowing the taint in their blood must be causing them a great deal of grief this far deep.

"_Sixth __day, __her __screams... __we __hear __in __our __dreams. __Seventh __day, __she __grew... __as __in __her __mouth __they __did __spew._"

"I _really_ dislike this poem," Zevran said quietly. "The rhyming scheme... it is all off." Serena forced a laugh, though it sounded more like a weird cough. Glancing at him, he shrugged, and they looked forward again, unable to do anything else but keep walking.

"_Eighth __day, __we __hate __it... __as __she __is __violated. __Ninth __day, __she __grins... __and __devours __her __kin. __Now __she __does __feast, __as __she's __become __the __beast._"

It wasn't long before they came upon the elegiac voice to which the poem belonged.

"What is this? A human? Bland and unlikely." A dwarven woman stood awkward in the room, curled into herself much as Ruck had been. The taint was much further advanced in her; dark splotches of blackness dotted her face and under her eyes. Pale lips spoke the words like a chant, like all the color had drained out of them, and her eyes... It was her eyes that struck Serena the most, though. Blank and unseeing, like the old blind tomcat that once stalked the stables at Highever, the orbs were ghostly pale.

"Hespith..." Oghren's voice was husky as he peered at the woman. "She's from Branka's house."

"Feeding time brings only kin and clan. I am cruel to myself. You are a dream of strangers' faces and open doors..." The woman pushed dirty hair that was once blonde but could no longer be considered so out of her face, revealing hallowed cheeks smeared with black ichor. Serena bit her lip to try and steady her stomach. Is _this_ what Alistair would one day look like? Would she look as terrible and tainted as this woman did? The thought churned her stomach.

"Y-You were the one s-singing, right?" Serena wished her voice didn't sound so frightened. She was supposed to be the leader. She was supposed to be strong and fearless and oh, sweet Maker that woman's teeth were rotting out of her mouth as it hung open before her.

"Corruption! The men did that! Their wounds festered and their minds left... They are like dogs... marched again, the first to die." The ghoulish woman looked up then, her eyes rolling. "Not _us_, not _me_. Not Laryn. We are not cut. We are _fed_. Friends and flesh and blood and bile and… and..."

Hespith collapsed in a heap, her fingers running over the tainted floors, the nails long and black, almost claws. "All I could do was wish Laryn went first. I wish it upon her so that I would be spared..." Serena didn't want to ask, but then she didn't have to. Alistair's voice chimed out, clear and colder than she'd ever heard it.

"Spared from... what?"

"I had to watch," the dwarf replied, her voice halting and raspy. "I had to _see_ the change. How do you endure that? How did Branka endure?"

"What change? What did you endure? What... what are they doing?" Serena wished Alistair would be quiet. She didn't _want_ to hear anymore. She didn't want to imagine...

"What they are allowed to do. What they think they must. And Branka..." The woman licked her hands, licked the blackened blood off them and Serena covered her mouth, her body convulsing against her will.

"Her lover... and I could not turn her. Forgive her... but no, she cannot be forgiven. Not for what she did. Not for what she has become."

Oghren stepped forward then, pressing Serena out of the way. He grabbed Hespith by the front of what remained of her dress, nearly shaking her. "What do you mean her _lover_? Where's Branka?"

"I will not speak of her!" Hespith shouted back, her body like a rag doll in Oghren's grip. Her head lolled to the side as more words slipped out. "Of what she did, of what we have become! I will not turn! I will not become what I have seen! Not Laryn! Not Branka!"

Pushing out with a sudden strength, she flailed about as Oghren dropped her, crawling away into the darkness like an insect. Oghren looked like he wanted to follow her for a moment before all the fight went out of him.

"Hespith said lover," he muttered darkly. "Branka's _lover_."

"I... she was... she was out of her mind, Oghren," Serena said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "She was _raving_. That could of meant... anything."

"Aye. You're right, Warden." The dwarf ran a hand over his forehead. "She was… out of her mind."

* * *

><p>"<em>She <em>_became __obsessed... __That __is __the __word, __but __it __is __not __strong __enough_."

Despite Hespith's disappearance, they could still hear her. Her voice traveled through the walls, echoing back to them wherever they went. Serena wouldn't have been surprised to find the creepy woman was following them, haunting them with her singsong warnings. Oghren eyed the walls warily, looking like he wanted to find and throttle her.

"_Blessed __Stone, __there __was __nothing __left __in __her __but __the __Anvil_."

They entered another open chamber, and a group of darkspawn rushed at them. An ogre stood stomping, ready to charge as their group broke up, the warriors taking the lead as mages sent up spells to halt the oncoming fiends.

When it roared, Serena realized another ogre had appeared on the opposite end, and she turned, pulling Alim with her. "Throw whatever you've got at him, Alim!" She saw magic push out of his hands as the ogre pumped its fist to the ground, an obvious threat display of power.

There was another bellow, and Serena felt the earth move as the other ogre fell, Alistair shouting in triumph. Furious at its fellow's downfall, the second ogre charged then and ran straight into Alim's shimmering shield, cracking its horns as it crashed to the ground.

"Kill it, kill it!" the elf shouted frantically, sending a weak fireball into the ogre's face, lighting its skin aflame briefly. The ogre itself appeared knocked out momentarily and Serena took the opportunity to push past Alim, her daggers already out. Hurtling over the back of the ogre, she landed atop it with a fleshy sounding thump. Gracelessly, she stabbed it deep, over and over until tts blood pooled beneath it and the ogre moved no more.

"Thank the Maker for that shield of yours, Alim," Serena said, taking his offered hand as she climbed down off the dead ogre. "We'd be deader than dead, I imagine."

"Aye, nice... uh..." Oghren twiddled his fingers at the mage. "Nice magic business ya got there, elf."

"Nice giant bloody sword _you_ have there, dwarf," Alim replied, smiling slightly. "You kill things... good."

"Right. Well. Now that we got all those fuzzy feelings out of the way, we ought to move on, aye?"

"_We __tried __to __escape, __but __they __found __us. __They __took __us __all, __turned __us..._"

Hespith's voice called out over them again, and Serena scowled. She thought they were done with that.

"I never liked that sodding bitch," Oghren said, his mouth turned down in a frown. "Even when she wasn't half-blind she was a-"

"_The __men, __they __kill... __they're __merciful. __But __the __women, __they __want. __They __want __to __touch, __to __mold, __to __change __until __you __are __filled __with __them..._"

Leliana was praying silently behind them, her voice barely a whisper compared to Hespith's chant. "The righteous stand before the darkness and the Maker shall guide their hand..." She moved to stand near Serena, taking her hand tightly in her own as they continued.

"_They __took __Laryn. __They __made __her __eat __the __others, __our __friends, __our __family. __She __tore __off __her __husband's __face __and __drank __his __blood._"

Now Serena was praying with her; anything to keep the voice at bay, to drown out the words. "B-Blessed are they who s-stand before the c-corrupt... and the wicked and do not f-falter. B-Blessed are the peacekeepers, the c-champions of the just..."

"_And __while __she __ate, __she __grew. __She __swelled __and __turned __gray __and __she __smelled __like __them._"

Alistair's voice joined them now as he walked beside Serena, his sword out and glowing bright blue. "Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow... In their blood the Maker's will is written." The fleshy darkspawn sacs were everywhere now, growing out of the stone itself, covering the walls and floors with their corruption.

_"They __remade __her __in __their __image. __Then __she... __made __more __of... __them_."

"Oh, sweet Maker. Tell me she's not... she's not..." Serena covered her ears with her hands, the Chant forgotten, her face set in lines of misery. The headache was attempting to crush her brain, she knew. "I can sense them... Oh, Maker preserve us..." Trying to block out the sound, she found it didn't matter, Serena could still hear Hespith's words. They seemed to get louder the further they walked.

Then the tunnel ended, and they saw it.

"_Broodmother..._"


	64. Chapter 64

**Author's Note**: A SUPER huge chapter, because Orzammar is enormous. Thanks to everyone for the kind reviews and for the favorites! Hope you all enjoy this crazy huge update!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 6<span>4 - _Somewhere __Beyond_

It was more frightening than the archdemon, in its way.

Easily the most horrid thing Serena had ever seen, the broodmother was... enormous. Vile and repulsive, it towered over them all, easily twenty feet tall and apparently stuck to the floor by its own massive bulk.

Grayish pink skin covered its chest, mottled from the taint, with two fat stumpy arms, constantly grabbing for anything within reach. Twisting and squirming, the thick bald head moved with the sway of the body, where four large flat breasts hung disgustingly, like an oversized pregnant sow.

Tentacles erupted out of the sides of it, constantly undulating, swiping, ready to seize them as soon as they got close. The headache she felt upon entering the Deep Trenches was nothing compared to the pounding her mind was fighting now. Looking over at Alistair, Serena knew she was not alone. Down here, their Grey Warden senses were as much a blessing as a curse.

"That's must be... Laryn," Alistair murmured, wincing slightly at the headache she knew he was fighting. Like the rest, he was apparently unable to look away from the horror before them. "I imagine those tentacles aren't for giving hugs..." His mouth clamped shut then, pulling his shield from its place on his back.

"Mind it's tentacles..." Serena called, pulling her bow. "Wynne, stay out of it, I want you healing. Leliana, cover her. I want everyone on guard, this thing can't move but-"

"Serena..." Alistair's eyes were still locked on the giant creature and he cursed loudly.

The creature was shaking now. Its mouth, so tiny for a body so immense, was open in a roaring belch that spewed black ichor out over the ground before it and down its slimy belly. With the cry came an answering howl as the rumble of metal echoed back to them.

"It's calling them," he said simply. He didn't need to say what was coming. They all knew.

Darkspawn were rushing down the tunnels on either side of the fat creature, coming to protect their... whatever it was to them. Mother? Sire? Prisoner? Serena had no idea, but she felt her stomach sink as the first darkspawn crashed into the chamber, weapons and teeth bared. With them, a few Blighted animals followed obediently.

Serena nocked an arrow into her bow and let it fly as she heard the others shouting, readying weapons and spells. In reply, Peanut let out a dread howl, stunning the first two darkspawn to their knees, allowing an opening for the rest.

Morrigan was instantly in front of her, a bright spark of lightning pushing out of her hand to smack into the first darkspawn. It struck hard, then arced back, crashing into its fellows as four of the monsters dropped dead on their feet, their bodies little more than burned out husks.

"Consider _that_ a warning, fiends!" the witch shouted fearlessly, swinging her staff in a wide arc. Another lightning bolt struck out from the blackened tip, heading straight for the next group. "We are deadly on a good day, and today has been decidedly unkind to us!"

A wolf ran forward next, slipping low to get past the darkspawn. It headed straight for Serena and she automatically pushed her own hand out, stopping the creature in its tracks. "You will obey me!" she shrieked. "These creatures are _not_ your pack! _I_ am your pack!"

The wolf slowed, two of its fellows backing up from both the darkspawn and Serena's group, now unsure what to do. Their thoughts were a confused muddle as they tried to swallow their anger that the taint drove them to. She didn't have the heart to shoot the animals, corrupted as they were.

Zevran moved past her then, his daggers slicing through one of the tentacles that drove up through the ground, even as it tried to grab at him. He hopped quickly, almost dancing out of the way as he slid the sharp blades around, the beasts fat tendrils were slowly hacked to pieces.

"There's the music!" Oghren bellowed from nearby, swinging his great sword straight through a hurlock twice his size. "Time to dance!" The dwarf was a whirlwind then, slashing through anything in his way. Darkspawn fell before him, cut down in droves, the stocky man roaring with bloodlust.

Beside her, Alistair seemed wary to leave Serena's side, hesitant to move further than a few yards from her. She supposed it was for fear she would be taken captive, and turned into one of those... _things_. "You'll never have her! You'll never have another!" he yelled, confirming her suspicions as he struck the nearest darkspawn. "For the Grey Wardens!"

Any darkspawn that got past her arrows or Oghren's sword, he cut down mercilessly, his blade shining blue in the gloom. His shield dropped them just as easily, the edges sharpened by the elven assassin to make it just as deadly as his sword. He was a spinning torrent of death, destroying anything that was stupid enough to come close.

Sten, however, only had eyes for the broodmother. Serena followed after the huge qunari, her arrows spent on the darkspawn. She heard Alistair shout but gave him no mind as she pulled her daggers, sprinting after Sten as he strode purposefully forward.

Ignoring the flailing tentacles, he sunk his sword deep into the stomach of the creature, ripping it across as the guts of the thing spilled, rushing out over him and the tainted floor. He turned then, setting his feet down firmly as she reached him.

"_Vinek __kathas_!" he urged, lifting her up in his massive arms. Before she even knew what was happening, she was standing on top of the black abdomen that protruded out of the broodmother's back, like a giant pulsing sac. Despite the mortal wound, the fat little arms still thrashed about wildly, trying to grab her off its back, the tentacles reaching where the arms could not. She felt herself lifted off its back and she screamed, letting loose all the magic within her.

She felt the Blighted animals respond to her call, her fury and fear was pulsing through them, channeling their rage back at the darkspawn that had originally corrupted them. The pack surged past Sten, barking and growling like mad. "K-kill her-" Serena gasped, her mind pressing them into her service, hopeful she could override the taint that followed in their veins with her passion.

With an almost mindless vengeance, the wolves ripped into the broodmother, pulling at the tentacles that held her captive, biting into her slimy pale flesh. The bloated thing screeched as a dire wolf launched itself at its throat, black ichor spraying in a geyser from the wound. The tentacle released her just enough that she was able to swing herself back onto the broodmother, one dagger still at her disposal.

Cutting deep, she stabbed at the bald little head, more of the thick dark blood spurting from the wound in every direction. It dripped slowly down her front as the broodmother slumped forward, finally lifeless. Below, her companions were finishing off the last of the darkspawn, blades and spells clashing in bright flashes across the battlefield.

Releasing the remaining wolves with her magic, she commanded them to run, to disappear back down into the ruins. She did not want them killed after they had already served her, risking their very lives. Below, she saw the lifeless form of one wolf that had been crushed under the broodmother's massive tentacle and Serena sent up a quick prayer to the Maker for it, though she knew not where animals went after death, especially a Blighted one.

"It's dead!" she called out needlessly. Answering shouts came back out of the darkness, as slowly the mages lit their staffs, light blossoming again, although they only made pinpricks in the gloaming that now threatened to devour them all.

"That's where they come from." Hespith had returned, apparently, with the death of the creature. Standing on a ledge above the dead broodmother, her halting, staggered speech drifted down from above and Serena resisted the urge to hurl something heavy at the ghoulish woman.

"That's why they hate us... that's why they _need_ us. That's why they take us... that's why they feed us. But the true abomination... it was not that it occured, but that it was _allowed_. Branka, my love... I am dying of something worse than death..."

"Betrayal..." With a glance to the ceiling, Hespith put out her arms, looking much like a martyr, ready to burn for their beliefs. Serena reached out to the ledge that held the woman, intent to help but she simply shook her head... and jumped.

* * *

><p>"So she's dead?"<p>

"I... I don't know. I couldn't find anything." Serena bit her lip, wishing she had a better explanation for Alistair, for all of them. "Her footprints were in the dust, and... it looked like she jumped into the... the lava."

"It is for the best," Sten said, his voice surprisingly sensitive. "She was beyond redemption."

Morrigan huffed, her thin arms crossed over her chest. "Good riddance, I say. Those singsong poems of hers were... indelible."

Serena looked to Oghren, who had been quiet since the end of the battle. They had patched their wounds; the dwarf had taken a deep cut to one arm that had taken Wynne a few moments to heal properly, her face scrunched in concentration. Morrigan had doled out health poultices to the others, some of her last, in an effort to conserve her and Alim's leftover mana. All three mages looked tired, drained, and Serena bit her lip, not sure what to do. They were nearly out of lyrium.

"There's a door over here," Zevran called then.

It led beyond, always beyond, it seemed, Serena thought ruthlessly. It was evening, it had to be by now, after all that, and as tired as she was, as she was sure they all were, she simply wanted an end to this, and felt it was near. She was not alone in that thought, either.

"If Branka is anywhere, this has to be it," Oghren said, nodding to their new surroundings. "She will... not be unprepared." Moving into the cavern, Serena found herself relieved. Lights, no, torches glowed just beyond. Someone was living here, and she prayed it was Branka. As they stepped further in, a trap sprung, dropping a thick metal door in place behind them.

"Dwarves and their bloody traps," Serena muttered, scowling at the door. "You would _think_ there would be better things to do down here, but no..." She sighed heavily. There would be no leaving out that way. Turning back, she noticed a glint above the rocks beyond, and a few of the others were gazing up as well. A dwarven woman with short brown hair stepped forward, her shield flashing again.

"Let me be blunt with you. After all this time, my tolerance for social graces if fairly limited." She glared at Serena, as if daring her to object. "That doesn't _bother_ you, I hope."

"Shave my back and call me an elf! Branka?" Oghren goggled at the woman. "By the Stone, I barely recognized you!"

"Oghren. It figures you'd eventually find your way here." An eyebrow raised delicately. "Hopefully, you can find your way back more easily."

"That'll be rather difficult with your little door trap back there set up," grumbled Serena, already taking a dislike to the tone of this woman's voice.

"And how shall I address _you_?" Branka continued, turning her intense gaze on Serena now. "Hired sword of the latest lordling to come looking for me? Or just the only one who didn't mind Oghren's ale-breath?"

"Be respectful, woman!" Oghren shouted, readily sticking up for his new companions. "You're talking to a Grey Warden!"

"Ah, so an _important_ errand boy, then," the dwarven woman mocked. "I suppose something serious has happened. Is Endrin dead? That seems most likely. He _was_ on the old and wheezy side."

"Errand _girl_, thank you very much," Serena corrected haughtily. She didn't like this woman one bit. She was rude and churlish, and Serena longed to throw something at her. "We came seeking your aid in helping the Assembly. It is hopelessly deadlocked, and we were told a Paragon could override that. Our treaties to end the Blight can only be honored by the King of Orzammar."

"A king won't defeat a Blight," Branka said, shaking her head. "We've had forty generations of kings and lost _everything_. I don't care if the Assembly puts a drunken monkey on the throne!"

Serena rolled her eyes. It was interesting this woman cared for the kingdom and its lost cities, yet cared not a bit whether its people murdered each other in the streets over the crowning of a new king. Did she do this for glory, then? She was already a _Paragon_, what was above that in dwarven society?

"Our protector, our greatest invention, the thing that once made our armies the envy of the world, is lost to the very darkspawn it should be fighting. The Anvil of the Void," Branka clarified, as if they needed clarification for why she was here. "The means by which the ancients forged their army of golems, and held off the first archdemon ever to rise. It's _here_. So close I can taste it."

"And yet _you_ still stand _here_," Morrigan drawled. "'Tis a bit more difficult to taste than you thought, is it, dwarf?"

"The Anvil lies on the other side of a gauntlet of traps designed by Caridin himself," Branka sneered. "My people and I have given body and soul to unlocking its secrets. _This_ is what's important. _This_ has lasting meaning. If I succeed, the dwarven people benefit. Kings, politics... all that is transitory." She frowned. "I've given up everything and would sacrifice _anything_ to get the Anvil of the Void."

"Including sacrificing Hespith to the darkspawn?" Serena challenged. "And Laryn? She is dead now, dead by my hand. And what of the rest of your house? I see you are alone in your pursuit." She narrowed her eyes at the woman. "Did they abandon you, or did you have them killed?"

Branka frowned, her eyes gazing beyond them, to where the broodmother now lay dead. Shaking her head, she focused on Serena again. "If you wish me to get involved with this imbecilic election, I must first have the Anvil." She threw an armored hand to the metal door behind them. "There is only one way out, Warden. _Forward_. Through Caridin's maze and out to where the Anvil waits."

"What has this place done to you?" Oghren burst out suddenly. "I remember marrying a girl you could talk to for one _minute_ and see her brilliance... have you lost your sodding mind?"

"I _am_ your Paragon," Branka ground out angrily. "The choice is yours, Warden." She nodded once and headed down the only tunnel out.

* * *

><p>Tents and snares littered the chamber as they made their way in. It appeared as if Branka's house, or most of it, had made it here at least, and pitched a rather large camp. Then she saw the bodies.<p>

Most of them were charred from some sort of fire, and the rest were only in pieces, pulled apart by metal claws and spring traps. An arm here, a leg there... it was disturbing, to see the dwarf walk past it all as if she hadn't brought it upon them.

Serena could hear Branka's voice ahead, her words echoing back to them much like Hespith's had. Perhaps it was a trait of dwarven women, Serena thought. Or perhaps just crazy women in general.

"_I __needed __people __to __test __Caridin's __traps. __There __is __no __way __to __break __through __except __by __trial __and __error. __I __sent __them __in... __They __were __all __mine, __pledged __to __be __my __house, __and __they __didn't __want __to __help._"

Beside her, Alistair was rolling his finger next to his head, pulling a ghastly face. He leaned down, whispering in Serena's ear so Oghren couldn't hear. "She honestly thinks people would just lay down their lives for some... lost invention? I'm surprised they didn't mutiny against her."

"_They __tried __to __leave __me, __even __my __Hespith... __But __even __she __couldn't __understand __that __when __you __reach __for __greatness, __there __are __sacrifices. __As __many __sacrifices __as __are __needed._"

Zevran put out an arm to stop Serena and leaned down, disabling a rusting, though no less sophisticated, leghold trap. A few more laid about the floor, and she and Leliana split off, all three rogues working together to clear the way for the others.

Alim suddenly gasped, pulling Morrigan after him. "You, too, Wynne," he called over his shoulder. "You can't be much better off than us." Setting the dark haired witch on a glowing green vein, they watched as the raw lyrium soaked into her skin and she sighed appreciatively. Alim smiled, heading for another vein as Wynne stepped near a third.

"That's... lyrium, isn't it? _Raw_ lyrium?" Alistair exchanged dark looks with Serena. "Let's you and I stay, uh, well over here, eh? Don't need to get back on that dark horse." She nodded, taking his hand as they moved away. She remembered her brief stint in the Fade only so well... Seeing Niall had been... unexpected, to say the least.

"Feels like being doused in pure energy," Alim whispered when he'd returned. "I haven't felt this good since we came down here."

"Aye, good thing, too, since here comes trouble." Oghren pulled his sword, his wife forgotten for the moment as the rage of battle overtook him. Rushing out, Oghren ran forward to meet the darkspawn, releasing his own savage roar.

Out of arrows, Serena moved forward with her daggers, slashing across the first genlock stupid enough to come her way. She felt Alistair at her side, his sword backing her up. She could hear the others, spells and blades cutting a swath through the darkspawn until it the cavern was silent again save for their breathing and the occasional curse.

"_She __shouldn't __have __gone. __She __was __pledged __to __me. __She __swore __she'd __do __whatever __it __took __to __find __the __Anvil_." Branka was speaking again, perched atop a ledge where the darkspawn couldn't reach her should Serena and her companions fall. "_There __was __no __other __choice. __Most __of __them __were __dying __of __the __taint __already, __but __some... __some __of __the __women __were... __transforming_."

Another wave of darkspawn ran out of a side tunnel, an ogre with them this time. Sten met the thing head-on, his sword digging deep into the waist of the thing, knocking it to the ground.

"_I __knew __what __they __would __become. __There __would __be __an __endless __supply, __fresh __darkspawn __to __test __the __traps. __They __could __still __serve __me, __let __me __find __the __Anvil. __It __was __the __only __way..._"

More traps. More darkspawn. It was a cycle here. Serena wondered when they'd be through with all of them. She seethed with fury, listening to Branka recite the horrid things she had done to the people left in her care. She took it all out on the darkspawn, unable to reach the woman she really wanted to kill.

"_You __have __no __idea __how __they __carried __on, __holding __my __hand __and __begging __to __die. __They __had __pledged __me __their __loyalty. __They __have __no __right __to __fight __me. __They __say __your __order __is __renowned __for __its __wits __as __well __as __its __brawn. __Perhaps __you'll __do __better __than __my __poor __clansmen_."

"_There's __something __about __this __place...__It __makes __people __despair_."

"Gee. I can't imagine why!" Serena grabbed the darkspawn's head from behind, snapping its neck in a rush of adrenaline. Kicking it back, she ran her dagger in another. "And here I just thought it made people _crazy_!"

Finally the last of the darkspawn fell, and when Serena looked up, Branka had disappeared, too. Oghren was staring at the place where she'd stood, his eyes hooded.

"Heh. Good ol' Branka. She's a bit, uh, abrasive, isn't she? Guess I forgot that part about her screeching in my ear every sodding day." The dwarf wiped the blood from his sword, frowning slightly. "Ah, well. We'll help her get the Anvil, and then she'll come home and everything will be better."

As they headed for the tunnel, Serena caught Alistair shooting her a look over the dwarf's head, shaking his head miserably. A look that clearly said this would not end as happily as Oghren thought. Serena felt it in the pit of her stomach that he was right.

* * *

><p>Cardin's traps ended up being quite advanced, for traps set hundreds of years ago. A room full of gas, in which when the levers were pulled to both activate the golem sentries left in the chamber and turn off the gas. Even Alistair could note the simple genius of the set-up... if one didn't succumb to the gas, they certainly would be weakened and unable to fight off the crazed golems.<p>

Alim had used a force field spell to stop the oncoming golems in order allow Zevran time to pull a few of the levers. Once the gas had dissipated, they group had descended on the enraged golems, Sten, Oghren and Alistair taking the hardest hits from their massive stone fists.

All three mages had descended on them, healing Alistair's busted ribs, Oghren's cracked skull and Sten's broken collarbone and wrist. The rest used health poultices to heal their cuts and other wounds, the group looking much worse for the wear afterwards. Alim had pointed out another lyrium vein that the drained mages had practically pounced on, soaking up the vapors greedily.

Watching the mages, Alistair found himself wishing he could restore his lost stamina as easily as simply rubbing up against some glowing rocks, but he knew all too well what lyrium, even small doses, did to non-mages. He'd seen one such templar, an older man named Rulf, who after nearly a lifetime of using lyrium to supplement his templar abilities had now nearly succumbed to madness.

Lyrium addiction was also one of the ways the Chantry kept such a tight fist on both the mages and its templars. It was almost poetic in a way, since both sides depended on the blueish substance. Alistair had only gotten a taste of it in his own training, but the few days after his conscription had been agonizing enough for him to forego the stuff forever, even at the loss of being able to use his abilities more frequently.

Glancing at Serena, he wondered how her body withstood the feel of it, constantly touching her arms, tingling at her very spirit. He made a note to himself to ask Alim if he had any theories about her abilities. The elf seemed very knowledgeable about magic in general, if not outright thrilled by anything academic.

Glancing around the cavern, Alistair frowned at the fallen golems, still annoyed at having been bested by them.

"Okay, I... regret my words about the golems looking puny," Alistair muttered, rubbing his hand across his armored chest. Despite being healed, the ribs still felt bruised.

"You were mistaken in thinking something made of stone would not be capable of punching you through the wall," Sten said, one of his eyes darkening from a bruise. "They also do not tire, which is... admirable... in a warrior"

"Only _you_ could find comfort in an enemy that tried to kill me," Alistair replied, incredulous.

The giant let out what could only be considered a snort. "They also do not whine."

* * *

><p>More golems, more traps, and more bruised ribs followed after that. The group was aching from multiple contusions by the time they reached the final cavern. Beyond, the cavern ended sharply as the glow of lava rose up to meet them. Rock golems stood like sentries leading up to an enormous metal golem, right in front of what had to be the Anvil of the Void.<p>

"Oh, sweet Maker, not _more_ of those damn things," Serena moaned. "I give up, okay? I... I have no more bones you insufferable piles of stone can possibly break..." Alistair had to agree as he put his arm around her, an arm recently healed from a break, that he also did not care for these golems.

"We can do this, Serena, it's right there." They stood in front of the giant metal golem, peering around anxiously. "Do you think we just go get Branka or..."

"Hello. My name is Caridin." Alistair looked up. It was the metal golem. And it was _talking_. It was talking _words_ to them. He could feel Serena shake next to him, backing up from the giant metal construct. "Once, longer ago than I care to think-"

Serena shrieked. "Sweet Maker, it's talking! It's a talking... it's talking!"

"Are you alright?" the golem asked. Alistair could have sworn the thing sounded... concerned, despite its rather imperious sounding voice.

"I... yes. Yes." Serena put a hand over her chest, breathing hard. "I apologize, I was simply... I mean, you're... you're a..."

"A golem, yes." The giant metal man nodded. "My name is Caridin, and I was once a Paragon to the dwarves of Orzammar." His voice sounded like it echoed deep in the tiny metal head, like there was a squat little man inside a giant suit of armor, shouting out at them. "If you seek the Anvil, then you must care about my story, or be doomed to relive it."

"Wait, wait, you said _Caridin_, right? As in.. as in _the_ Caridin of Caridin's Cross? You _made_ the Anvil." Alistair turned to Oghren, goggling at the golem. "He _made_ the Anvil!"

The dwarf rolled his eyes. "Aye, Warden, so I heard."

"Though I made many things in my time, I rose to fame and earned my status based on a single item, the Anvil of the Void." There was a long substantial pause before the golem spoke again, and Alistair found himself appreciating the Paragon's sense of drama. "It allowed me to forge a man of steel or stone, as flexible and clever as any soldier. As an army, they were invincible. But I told no one the cost."

"No mere smith, however skilled, has the power to create life. To make my golems live, I had to take their lives from elsewhere."

Serena's voice was tiny. "Oh, dear. I'm not sure I like where this is heading..."

"It sounds like... blood magic," Alim whispered.

"The darkspawn were pressing in," Caridin continued. "Originally, I only took volunteers, the bravest of souls willing to trade their very lives for the chance to defend their homeland. But King Valtor became greedy. He began to force me... casteless and criminals... his political enemies... all of them were to be given to the anvil."

"It took feeling the hammer's blow myself to realize the height of my crimes."

"So... what now? Is this... are you seeking revenge?" Serena put a hand on her dagger, preparing for the worst it seemed.

"Not revenge," replied the golem. "The blow of the hammer opened my eyes. My apprentices knew enough to make me as I am, but not enough to fashion a control rod. I retained my mind. We have remained entombed here ever since..." He threw out a large hand to the expanse around him. "And I have sought a way to destroy the Anvil. Alas, I cannot do it myself. No golem can touch it."

"Then I'll help you," Serena said. "I don't think..." She glanced around, looking at the others, her eyes landing on Oghren. "After what h- happened with Laryn... I don't think we should-"

"No! The Anvil is _mine_!" Branka's scratchy voice rang out across the cavern as she rushed in past the golem sentries. "No one will take it from me!"

"You!" Caridin's voice boomed out of the golem, his hand pointing accusingly at Branka. "You have sent countless dwarves through my gauntlet to their deaths! You shall never harm another in pursuit of the Anvil!" He turned to Serena, and Alistair could has sworn if the metal face could emote, it would have. "Please... help me destroy it! Do not let the Anvil enslave more souls that it already has!"

"I... I... I need a Paragon's help, Caridin! If I help you, can you support a new king for the throne?"

"Don't listen!" Branka yelled. She pulled her blade and shield from her back, waving them frantically. "He's been trapped here for a thousand years, stewing in his own madness! Help me claim the Anvil, and you will have an army like you've never seen!"

"Two years, a thousand years... everybody is deranged down here," Zevran muttered. "I had thought the darkspawn bad..."

"branka, you mad, bleeding nug-tail! Does this thing mean so much to you that you can't even see what you've lost to get it?" Oghren stepped towards his wife, his face drawn in angry lines. "Our whole house, gone to the darkspawn!"

"Look around, Oghren! Is this what our empire should look like? A crumbling tunnel filled with darkspawn spume? The Anvil will let us take back our glory!"

"At the cost of how many more lives, Branka?" Serena shouted. "Hundreds, maybe thousands have been lost to it! It... it _enslaves_ living souls, you crazy woman! No more! No army is worth this!" She turned back to Caridin. "It must be destroyed. If you'll help me, I will do it."

"Thank you, stranger. Your compassion shames me."

"No! You will not take it!" Branka ran towards them then from the back of the cavern, her eyes wild. "Not while I still live!"

"Branka! Don't throw your life away for this!" Oghren pulled his sword, bringing it up to ward off her frenzied swing. "Just give her the blasted thing! She's confused..." He parried another blow, protecting Serena. Alistair pulled his sword, discontent to allow anyone to take crazy swings at his betrothed. "Maybe once she calms down..."

"She's obsessed, Oghren! Look in her eyes!" Serena pulled her daggers. "She could have taken our heads off!"

"She has been driven mad by her quest for the Anvil, like so many others," added the giant golem.

"Bah! You're not the only master smith here, Caridin!" Branka cried. "Golems! Obey _me_! Attack!"

Around the cavern the stone golems came to life, stretching wide before they pounded their fists on the ground in unison. Alistair and the others were shaken about as all but Caridin and the golems

were thrown to the ground.

"A control rod! But... my friends, you must help me! I cannot stop her alone!"

"Everyone's completely insane!" Serena shrieked, pulling herself to her feet despite the shaking of the ground. "Paralyze whatever you can!" She pointed to the golems as she pulled one of Zevran's bombs from her belt pouch. "We have to get that control rod!"

Alistair dug his boots in, trying to gather his legs under him to follow her towards the mad Branka. Shouting orders at the stone golems, she pulled her shield, blocking herself from Serena as she barreled into the dwarven woman at full speed.

Serena knocked Branka to the ground, using her sheer size as an advantage over the smaller woman. As the two women scrambled across the floor, Alistair was nearly knocked out by a golem, his focus on Serena. Raising his shield just in time, the golem pounded into him and he felt his feet leave the ground as he flew across the cavern, landing in a heap near Zevran.

"Good day to you, my friend," the assassin said conversationally, as if they weren't being attacked by a dozen enormous stone monsters. Putting out one hand to help Alistair up, he grinned, flinging a firebomb at one of the fiends with his other hand to keep it at bay. "More rock slides, hmm?"

Alistair shook his head, fighting the disorientation he felt. "I _hate_ these bloody... things."

All across the battlefield their companions were fighting hard. The mages casting spells to freeze or paralyze the golems in place, Sten and Oghren beating hard at the stone creatures. Serena was still wrestling with the dwarven women, both brunette's screaming and scraping. Alistair saw Branka land a solid hit to Serena's face as she scrambled up and away from their leader, the control rod held up defiantly in her hand.

"Golems, attack... _HER_!" Branka threw out an arm to indicate Serena as she clambered to her feet, shaking off the punch drowsily.

Bellowing, one of the golems picked up an enormous boulder in his fist, heaving it across the cavern at Serena at the dwarf's command. Alistair felt his heart jump in his chest as the metal golem, Caridin, threw himself in front of the massive stone as a makeshift shield as Serena screamed and dove to the ground again, the golem and rocks flying over her head.

That was it. Something snapped then, and Alistair's feet were moving, Zevran right at his heels, both men intent on reaching the dwarf now. He wanted nothing more than to rip her apart with his bare hands.

Before he knew it, they had reached her, his shield pushing her to the ground roughly from behind. He could hear yelling behind them, a man's voice and a higher pitched one, Serena maybe? He couldn't stop though, they both had their hands on her now, and Branka was shouting, ordering the golems to protect her.

Catching Branka between them, Alistair ripped the control rod from her hands as Zevran slid his long dagger in her back, effectively skewering her on it. Blood burst from her mouth then, her face immortalized in astonishment at being beaten at last.

The golems immediately stopped, one dropping Sten to the ground with a heavy thud. The giant metal golem then wandered over to the companions, his eyes on Branka's lifeless form.

"Another life lost because of my invention," Caridin lamented. "I wish no mention of it had made it into history."

Oghren snorted, his face set in a heavy frown as he wiped a hand across his eyes. "Yeah, you ain't kidding. Stupid woman! Always knew the Anvil would kill her..."

"But at least it ends here," Caridin contined. "I thank you for standing with me, strangers. The Anvil waits there for you to shatter it."

"It was good to meet you, Paragon," Wynne murmured, bowing her head to the giant construct. Alistair rolled his eyes. Wynne was nice and all, but meeting Caridin was _anything_ but good. Puppies were good. Rainbows were good. Giant twelve foot walking metal monsters were _not_ good. They were outright terrifying. "I intend to ensure that your warnings about the golems are heard by the Circle of Magi."

"While that's all well and good, but it would be nice to have an end to this succession problem," Zevran said keenly. "It is what we came down here for, afterall."

"Indeed," Serena agreed. Although Alistair saw her quickly turn to Oghren, her blue eyes intense as she telegraphed something to the smaller man with a look.

As if he hadn't heard the assassin at all, Caridin began speaking again. "Is there any boon I can grant you for your aid? A final favor before I am freed from my burden?"

Serena stared up at the giant metal golem, looking tiny in comparison. "Paragon Caridin, while we require a Paragon's aid in the election... Oghren lost his wife to this madness. I shall be content with whatever he decides."

Oghren frowned, looking to Serena for confirmation. "Aye, you _sure_ about this, Legs?"

"It's up to you, Ginger," Serena said with a sad smile. "I'm sorry for what happened." The dwarf nodded, his beard twitching slightly as he turned back to Caridin.

"Huh. Don't suppose you can bring Branka back? Maybe make her a golem, like you?"

Slowly, the metal Caridin turned his head back and forth. "I would not do such a thing to her, even if I could."

"Somehow, I didn't think so." The dwarf glanced at his blood splattered boots for a moment. "Then I don't want anything that would remind me of... this. Best it's just done. Though, there is still the matter of the election. I mean, we still need a Paragon to get the Assembly's support and all... Maybe you could help with that, aye?"

"For the aid you've given me, I shall put hammer to steel one last time," Caridin boomed. "I shall give you a crown for the king of your choice." The giant metal man stomped off towards the Anvil, the banging and thudding echoing through the cavern immediately.

"Oh, dear, thank the Maker he's making us something. Could you imagine us traipsing up to the surface with _this_ thing?" Serena's voice wasn't exactly quiet as she spoke to Alistair. "Oh, yes, Branka was completely unhinged, so we brought you... a thousand year old metal statue that talks."

"And is thankfully rather deaf," Alistair added, smiling crookedly as he slipped his arm around her quickly.

Caridin returned rather soon, holding a large golden crown in his hand. Handing it to Serena, she buckled slightly under its unexpected weight. "There. It is done. Give it to whom you will. I do not wish to hear their names, nor anything more of them. I have already lived far beyond my time. I have no place here."

"And I shall destroy your creation, as we agreed," Serena replied with a curt nod. Walking past them all to the giant Anvil, she hefted Caridin's giant hammer above her head and slammed it down hard, shattering the Anvil of the Void in a bright flash.

Caridin stomped forward then to stand next to Serena at the edge of the cavern, a stream of air releasing from his metal helmet in what they could only assume was a golem's sigh. "You have my eternal thanks, stranger. Atrast nal tunsha... may you always find your way in the dark."

Without another word, he put out his hands and jumped into the bright orange lava below.


	65. Chapter 65

**Author's Note**: So, between this chapter and the next is a little short story I haven't named yet, but will be launching tomorrow! As such, Chapter 66 is getting bumped to Friday. Thanks all for the reviews and follows, your feedback is always welcome and appreciated!

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><p><span>Chapter <span>65 - _Five Hundred and Ten_

"So, that's a thing down here, huh? Jumping into lava after you make sad declarations?"

"Don't look at me, Legs. I'm not jumping in any lava any time soon." Oghren ran a cloth across his blade, wiping it free of the blood and other filth it had accumulated in their time in the Deep Roads. "I'm not making any sodding declarations, either."

They had stopped to rest for the evening, having trekked back around towards the Fortress of Bownammar. Kardol and his fellows were nearby, stoking a few fires. Together, they were over 30 people strong for the evening, making everyone feel a bit safer. As safe as you could feel in the Deep Roads, anyway.

"Four hundred and seventeen dead darkspawn, fifty-six dead spiders, thirteen dead golems, though I'm not sure if you can consider them alive or dead... oh, there were four ghosts, and two suicides via jumping into lava, though one is _technically_ unconfirmed." Zevran ticked off the numbers on his fingers. "Oh, and eighteen dead dwarves. What a day."

"Wait, what was just today?" Serena looked up from her journal, her eyebrows knitting together. "We killed over _four_ _hundred_ darkspawn today?"

The assassin nodded, a slight grin twisting his features. "I have lost count of the amount of darkspawn over all, but it is... near seven hundred or so since we came to Orzammar, give or take an ogre."

"By the Maker, well... that must put a dent in the horde, at least." Serena tapped her fingers on the paper of her journal, a low whistle escaping her lips. "I wish we could have gotten a piece of that archdemon..."

"We'll get it, love," Alistair said quietly. "At least we know what we're dealing with now."

"Indeed," Zevran agreed, tossing some dried roots in the fire. "The archdemon is very large, very mean, covered in spikes, and breathes purple fire. I do not know about you, but I am feeling _very_ prepared right now."

"I'm feeling like I want to throw something at you," Serena muttered, sticking her tongue out at the elf.

"What _are_ you scrutinizing over, my dear?"

"Oh, its a rubbing of Caridin's records, the names of all the dwarves made into golems," Serena said, handing the assassin her journal. Running her fingers instead over her mabari's fur, the dog huffed quietly in its sleep. "Lucky he kept them engraved, the paper would have rotted away by now, I imagine." She shrugged. "I figure the Assembly would want it."

"It should go in the Shaperate, if nothing else," Oghren said, squatting down on the mat beside Zevran to look at the journal. "A lot of houses lost people to that blasted Anvil... they'd probably brown their trousers over this thing. Probably pay handsomely, too."

"We are simply overflowing with funds, aren't we?" Zevran shook his head. "I should have left the Crows years ago and started this adventuring... I would be a very rich elf."

Oghren, however, was still peering over the journal. He ran a finger over a line of symbols at the bottom of the page. "'We honor those who have made this sacrifice; let their names be remembered.'" Raising his water skin dramatically, he toasted the others, who raised their own skins in return. "Aye, I'll drink to that."

* * *

><p>"Lords of the Assembly, I call for order! This argument gets us nowhere!" A few other dwarves began shouting then, as if the man had called for the opposite of order, some slamming their fists down on the stone desks in front of them while others banged their staffs around.<p>

Serena and the others were standing outside the open doors to the Assembly. She was holding Caridin's crown in her hand, the slick surface of it was threatening to slide out of her sweaty fingers. Her eyes immediately sought out Prince Bhelen, who visibly cringed at their appearance. She didn't even want to think what they looked like, having not bathed in the better part of a week.

Scowling slightly, she stepped out onto the Assembly floor. A dwarven attendant led the way, bowing to the men and women of the Assembly.

"I apologize for the interruption, Lord Steward, but the Grey Wardens have returned."

Almost instantly another wave of rumblings broke out among the lords and ladies present, some openly pointing at Serena and her companions. At the front dais, Bhelen held up a hand to silence them.

"Well, Warden, what news do you bring?"

"We bring you a crown, from the Paragon Caridin, for his chosen king," Serena called. Behind her, Oghren stepped forward, puffing out his chest.

"Caridin was trapped in the body of a golem. This Warden granted him the mercy he sought, releasing him and destroying the Anvil of the Void." Oghren looked up at Serena and smiled as around them the deshyrs broke out into more frenzied whispers. "Before he died, Caridin forged a crown for Orzammar's next king, chosen by the ancestors themselves!"

"I would like to believe Oghren's word," Lord Harrowmont said in his quiet, steady voice. "But it's well know the Warden is Bhelen's hireling."

"We were getting paid for this?" Alistair murmured to Serena as more shouting broke out. "Did _you_ know he was paying us?"

"He wasn't paying us," Serena replied, rolling her eyes at the dwarves. "We did get to sleep in the Royal Palace, though. That was nice."

Alistair chuckled. "It would be nicer if they let us bathe..."

"Silence!" A man stepped forward then, taking the crown from Serena and examining it closely. "This crown is of Paragon make, and bears House Ortan's ancient seal." He turned his keen eye on Serena then. "Tell me, Warden, who did Caridin choose?"

"Paragon Caridin baded me choose Orzammar's next king, as he felt his time in the mortal realm had long since past."

"Why would a Paragon trust someone, an _outsider_, who knows nothing of us with such a decision?" Harrowmont questioned loudly, his soft voice now forgone. "This is preposterous!"

"_You_ may refer to me as Warden-Commander Cousland, Lord Harrowmont," Serena said tartly. She saw the prince bite his lip on a grin as he glanced sidelong as his rival, who was now blushing furiously. "And seeing as how it was I and my companions who went into the Deep Roads after not one, but _two_ of your Paragons when no one else would, I daresay I have earned the right to be heard by this Assembly."

"I say we hear from the Grey Warden," one noble called. "We have been deadlocked for days." There were other various shouts of 'speak' and many nods, so bowing her head, Serena began.

"As I'm sure you all can tell by our less than radiant appearances, we have spent days in the Deep Roads, following the trail of Paragon Branka. She led her house, bound for Ortan Thaig, intent on finding the Anvil of the Void. Upon reaching the thaig, we found her journal, which stated she had moved them on, further south... to the Dead Trenches."

There was widespread murmuring over that.

"And so we went. Deeper and deeper, encountering darkspawn and crawlers at nearly every turn. It was in the Dead Trenches we saw the archdemon, and the bulk of the darkspawn horde." Serena paused, allowing herself to soak in the shock and surprise that poured down from the deshyrs surrounding them. "It was there we met the Legion of the Dead, and Commander Kardol, who offered me his help in fighting the archdemon, should we prove able to provide Orzammar with a king."

"It was there we fought a broodmother. A dwarven woman turned into a breeding darkspawn, who then destroyed the rest of her house. The house of Paragon Branka." Serena closed her eyes, remembering the terrible creature that had been Laryn. Upon opening them, she decided to leave out Branka's part in the massacre. The woman was dead, as was her house, with the only survivor as Oghren. Glancing at the dwarf, she knew he did not need his late wife remembered in such a manner.

"It was not long after that we found Branka herself, still attempting to reach the Anvil of the Void, after all this time."

"But she was _not_ alone," Serena continued, her voice carrying clearly in the giant room. "Within the chamber of the Anvil stood Paragon Caridin, turned one thousand years ago by a greedy king into a giant metal golem. He bade us destroy the Anvil, for it took dwarven men and women, enslaved their very _souls_, and made them into the army his king once sought to use to save the dwarves from the darkspawn."

"Unfortunately, Branka died in the assault on the chamber. But as Caridin still lived, in return for our help in destroying the Anvil, he offered us this crown, to present to the king of our choosing."

"It was the will of the Paragon that the Grey Warden decides!" echoed the Lord Steward. When no one challenged him, he turned back to Serena. "Who is it you choose, Commander?"

"I present this crown to Prince Bhelen Aeducan, who I believe will lead Orzammar to an exceptional standard during these troubled times. May the ancestors show you their favor always, your highness."

Serena stepped forward, handing the crown to the Lord Steward, who held it aloft as Bhelen stepped down to the center ring. Serena could see Lord Harrowmont shake his head sadly, frowning at the lot of them like they were wayward children he could not tame. She longed to stick her tongue out at the old man, but held it as the prince made his way past her, smiling broadly.

"Thank you, Commander. I look forward to taking my rightful place on my father's throne." Bhelen lowered himself to one knee as around them the deshyr lords began to gather around, banging their Assembly staffs in a distinct rhythm.

Placing the crown atop his head, the steward smiled. "May the Memories find you worthy. First amidst the lords of the houses, I present the King of Orzammar."

Bhelen turned then to Harrowmont, his face infinitely smug. "Do you acknowledge me as King?"

"I... cannot defy a Paragon," the older man said, dropping to one knee. "The throne is yours... King Bhelen."

"I'll have you not undermine my reign, Harrowmont," Bhelen replied. "Orzammar cannot afford to be divided, and anyone seen doing so is only serving the darkspawn."

"Lord Harrowmont was a worthy rival, if I may say, King Bhelen," Serena said archly. "I should like to see him shown mercy, as I would attend he do the same should the roles be reversed."

"You make a point, Commander." Bhelen paused, seeming to come to a quick decision. Serena hoped he wouldn't have the old man killed, not after all this. "Pyral Harrowmont, I shall see you exiled to the surface, your next of kin shall take up Lord of House Harrowmont and see his place here in the Assembly."

"I shall return to my palace and gather my generals, so we shall prepare our forces for the surface. I will see you there, Wardens. And may it be known that you have my gratitude for all that you have done for me, and for Orzammar." With a curt nod to the deshyrs and Serena, he quickly strided out of the room, meeting Vartag Gavorn at the door.

"Uh, _wow_." Alistair ran a hand through his hair, his unease reading clearly. "That _really_ makes me not want to be king now."

"Well, at least they can't banish you to the surface at the Landsmeet," Serena murmured, taking his hand as they headed out of the Assembly, the lords flowing out around them. "Though they could put you in Fort Drakon. Or kill you outright."

"Oh, just all that?" Alistair rolled his eyes. "And here I was, _worried_ about the whole thing."

"Aw, well... they'd surely toss me in there, too, so at least we'd be tortured _together_."

Alistair chuckled, smiling crookedly. "That's why I love you, Commander. You're always looking on the bright side."

* * *

><p>After another day in Orzammar, Serena was ready to get back to the surface. A good meal and a bath had done wonders for everyone, not to mention sleep in actual beds. Everyone seemed in much better spirits after that, and the signing of the Grey Warden treaty by Bhelen hadn't hurt any, either.<p>

A discussion with King Bhelen and his generals had taken most of the evening, though Serena thought they got a lot worked out. Kardol and his men would work separately from Bhelen's main forces, of which he could promise at least thirty warriors, offering the Wardens around fifty experienced men and women.

During the discussion the king's brother-in-law, the rescued Faren, had suggested offering interested casteless a chance to fight for the city with the Wardens, in return for looser restrictions, if they survived. While some of Bhelen's generals seemed uneasy about the idea, no one could deny that the more soldiers Orzammar could provide, the better the chances of ending the Blight.

"Looks like Leske and I will see you on the surface, Commander," the tattooed dwarf said, heading out of the meeting with Serena and Alistair. "While the Blight is horrible and all, this opportunity to fight could mean a world of change for the casteless in this city. I hope if you find yourself lacking Grey Wardens in the coming weeks, you won't look too much farther than Orzammar."

"I'd be thrilled to count you among my brothers, Faren," Serena replied earnestly. With a grin Faren had stuck out his hand then, shaking both Serena's and Alistair's before disappearing into his own quarters.

"Oooh, you hear that, Serena? Our first Grey Warden recruit!" Alistair grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they made their way down the palace hallway. "With Faren, that brings the Order up to... three." He whistled low. "I don't know where we're going to find room for all of them to sleep, if recruits keep pouring in at this rate."

"Pfft. And _I'm_ the pessimistic one," Serena mumbled, pushing him lightly on the shoulder.

"You know, we haven't really discussed what we'd do, if we ran into people who actually wanted to join the Order." Alistair sat down on the bed, his knees coming up high because of how short dwarven beds were made. "I don't know if I told you, but I don't actually know the magic behind it. I know there's darkspawn blood, and a drop of archdemon blood, and lyrium, but..." He looked at his boots. "We need a senior Grey Warden, Serena."

"Let's just... try not to worry about it for now," Serena said quietly. "We have the treaties, we have our allies, but there's so much more... Loghain, Eamon, the Landsmeet... we're not nearly done, and I just... I can't devote any more of my time worrying about whether people want to beat down our door to become Wardens."

"We'll figure something out. Cailan was working with Orlais, maybe we can get some Wardens in from there, someone who can teach us the Joining." Serena rubbed her temples. "Not that I'm thrilled to put anyone through _that_, of course."

"Maybe... maybe it's for the best, then," Alistair said. "There's always the chance, that... you know. Daveth." They were both looking down at the floor now. "You're right. We'll figure it out eventually."

"We always do, love," Serena murmured.

They'd gone to sleep after that, only to wake too soon hours later for the trek out of Orzammar and back to the surface. Serena had been surprised to find Oghren waiting for them as they left the Royal Palace, an enormous pack on his back.

"Aye, Wardens. Heard you're heading for the surface to finish off this Blight. Thought I might... lend a hand."

"We're always willing to take on extra hands," Serena replied. "Especially ones that wield a blade longer than I am tall. Are you sure you don't want to stay in Orzammar, though?" She exchanged quick looks with Alistair. "I thought once you leave, you... can't really... come back."

"That's the long and short of it, Legs," the dwarf replied. "But you know as well as I do there's nothing for me here anymore."

"Then welcome aboard, Ginger." Serena held out a hand to Oghren and after a short pause, he took it and shook it quickly. "I have one demand, though."

"Aye, what is it?"

"You have to bathe at least once a week."

* * *

><p>"You want to do <em>what<em> with my daughter?"

Oghren had been the easiest recruit so far. Picking up Dagna, however, was a lesson in patience.

"I do not want to do anything with your daughter, ser," Serena said with a sigh. "She related to me and my very powerful mage friend here that she wishes to study magic at the Circle Tower near Lake Calenhad. Since I and my fellows are heading that way-"

"My daughter can't even _do_ magic! And she's eighteen!" Janar turned to the redhaired young girl, his face mottled with anger. "You're eighteen! You should be trying to better this house through a prosperous marriage, not dreaming of going off to wave wands around!"

"We do _not _wave wands around-" Alim began. "I'm not some fairy-tale _wizard_."

"I don't sodding care what you nutters do up at that Tower, my daughter ain't going! You hear that, Dagna? You ain't going!"

"No. I am going, Father," Dagna said quietly. She hefted her pack on her shoulder and frowned. "I'm eighteen, you cannot legally bind me into a marriage I don't want-"

"I'm your _Father_," Janar stormed, "and I can do _whatever_ I want-"

"No!" Dagna shouted. Her face was flushed and her light eyes were narrowed on her father's dark ones. "I am _going_ to the Circle Tower, and I am going to be the greatest scholar Orzammar has _ever_ known! You can either say goodbye _now_, or I shall... see you in the Stone!"

"I... but... I..." Janar put a hand over his eyes. "Your mother's gone, what will I... I'll be alone, Dagna."

"You should find your own happiness, ser," Serena said. "Dagna has found purpose in this. To hold her back would only make her resent you."

"Yeah, yeah, thanks for stating the obvious, girly," Janar muttered. "Meddling Wardens." He waved a hand impatiently. "Just... you... you take care of my daughter, alright? She's the only blasted one I got and if any harm comes to her, I'll personally find you and beat some sense into you."

"If it makes you feel better, I'm nineteen, and I'm Commander of the Grey," said Serena. "Young people can do-"

"How is _that_ supposed to make me feel better?" Janar interrupted.

"I... I just meant she can... do great things, even though she's eighteen," Serena spluttered. "Um, we should just go."

"Yes, you should." He put his arms around his daughter in a tight hug. "Dagna, be careful. Write to me so I know you're alright. Don't upset any of the mages, I don't want you coming back to me as a chicken."

"I won't, Father. I'll write you every week." Dagna kissed her father on the cheek, waving as she joined Serena and Alim. "I love you!"

"Love you, too, girl," the old man called. Serena saw him wipe at his face before he gave them a last smile and disappeared back into his shop.

* * *

><p>Serena had never been so excited to see the sun before. Nodding politely to the guards, she walked a few steps before catching Alistair's eye and practically leaping into his arms.<p>

"This feels so good!" she whispered in his ear. "No more Deep Roads, no more creepy tunnels filled with corruption! Just sunshine and the cool breeze and... oh goodness, it's freezing out here!" She scrambled for her pack, pulling out another tunic.

"I wondered when you'd remember that," Alistair said with a chuckle. "I pulled my cloak on in advance."

"Well, aren't _you_ Ser Smartypants," Serena muttered, pulling on a third tunic.

"Hey, Serena, uh..." Alistair tapped her on the shoulder, nodding his head back to the giant metal doors. Oghren was still standing there, his eyes closed, breathing heavily as if he'd run. "I think he might be uh, panicking, slightly."

Stepping up to him, the dwarf must have sensed her there, because he held up a hand.

"Give me a moment," Oghren said with a sigh.

"Sure." Serena took a deep breath and closed her eyes too, sucking in the cool fresh air of Ferelden. There was the hint of pine on the breeze, and it reminded her of Alistair.

"By the Stone, I feel like I'm about to fall off the world with all that sky up there."

"I imagine it's a bit like walking around upside down," Serena replied, craning her neck up. "Take your time, Ginger. I need you ready to fight bandits and darkspawn with me."

"If I could fight Randar Vollney's second after downing _fifteen_ lichen-ales in half an hour, I'm not going to be put off by a high sodding ceiling!" Oghren took one last look at the gates of Orzammar, nodded to himself, then to Serena. "Well, let's get moving, aye? We're losing... whatchacallit? Daylight."

"I imagine we have about eight more hours of it, at least, but as you say."

"And we'll be walkin' all that time?"

"Most of it," Serena said, eyeing the stalls as they passed. "When we reach Circle Tower, we'll reconvene with Bodahn and his son, and then we'll have access to our horses and his wagon."

"Bodahn Feddic?" Oghren asked. "Brown bushy beard, son's a little..." Oghren rolled finger next to his head. "Err, simple."

"Uh, yes, that would be him. We met him in Lothering and he's been traveling with us ever since." Serena smiled as her mabari bounced past, shoving his face into a small melting drift of snow. "He went up to Highever to do some trading. He's probably one his way to Kinloch Hold by now, though."

"And he's got a wagon?"

Zevran chuckled from behind them. "Are your little legs getting tired of walking already, my fine dwarven friend?"

"You really keep this lady in your company, Legs?" Oghren muttered. "Sure talks a lot."

"If you like, I could hoist you up on my back?" Zevran offered, grinning broadly. "Carry you around like a child? It would be marvelous fun!"

"Your braids are pulled too tight, pipe-cleaner. You couldn't carry me on your _best_ day." Oghren's eyes flipped to Serena's mabari, eyeing the hound appreciatively. "Now that mutt on the other hand..."

"Listen up, Ginger. If you take the time to build a chariot, I'll have to no qualms with you hooking it up to Peanut." Serena put out her hand. "Deal?"

Oghren grabbed her hand, shaking it enthusiastically. "Aye, you got yourself a deal, Legs!" He turned to Zevran. "Hear that, elf? No more walking for old Oghren. It will be glorious! Spiked wheels, my house symbol emblazoned on it..."

Alistair chuckled. "He's beginning to sound a bit like Cailan, you know?" He adopted the air of his enthusiastic half-brother. "Dog-driven chariots, Duncan! Just like in the tales! It'll be _glorious_!"

"If only we'd thought to put the king in a dog-drawn chariot," Serena said, shaking her head. "Ostagar might never have happened. Maker, we should have had everyone in dog-drawn chariots. What were we _thinking_? Running into battle like that..."

"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, as they say," said Zevran.


	66. Chapter 66

**Author's Note:** And we're back to our regularly scheduled programming. In case you missed, I wrote a short story called "A Life In Theory" that covers the time on the road between chapters 55 and 56 from Alim's perspective. Hope you all enjoy!

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><p><span>Chapter 56<span> - _A Life Without Love_

They arrived after nearly a week on the road. The group moved much slower these days, with the addition of Alim, Dagna, Oghren, and a templar named Ser Boyd they'd... happened upon during a bandit raid. Serena had allowed him to live, but she was getting more and more weary of Loghain's attempts to eliminate Ferelden's last Grey Wardens.

The Circle Tower looked much less imposing in the light of day than the last time they had stood before it. The cold waters of Lake Calenhad lapped at the shore, pushing up against the rickety docks. The salty air reminded her of Highever, though it was less potent than the Waking Sea because of all the mountain rivers that fed directly into the lake.

Serena took in the sight, enjoying the peaceful quality the lake provided. The fact that no snotty templars prowled the water's edge was an added bonus, since she had been curious as to what condition they would find the tower _this_ time.

"No demons, Maker willing," she muttered to Alistair as they boarded the small docks. A ferryman waved to them, setting the group into two, to be ferried across the lake by him and his assistant, a tall lanky boy of about seventeen.

"Well, it wasn't as if they were hanging bodies from the outside last time," he said. "But I'm sure we would have heard if some other nutter of a blood mage decided to run amuck." Alistair held out a hand, helping Serena into the boat. Behind them, Oghren, Alim, Morrigan, and the templar, Ser Boyd, waited patiently to board. Serena's mabari was to stay with Bodahn's son Sandal at the small inn on shore, while the others were stepping into the other boat quickly.

"Ooh, that's _huge_. I wonder how long it took to _erect_ it," Oghren said to Alim. "Get it? Eh?"

"It was constructed by the Avvars, actually," Alim said, his voice thoughtful as he stepped carefully into the boat. "With some help from the dwarves, of course. It was thought nearly impenetrable until the Tevinter Imperium sought to invade the south and drove the Avvar people from it and into the upper Frostbacks. The Circle of Magi didn't assume control of it until the 87 Towers, I believe."

"How very fitting that they would build a prison for mages in the middle of a lake and make it look like a giant phallus," Morrigan replied, rolling her eyes.

"At least _she_ gets my jokes," Oghren grumbled, flopping down in the boat. "My brilliant wit is sodding lost on _you_ apparently, elf."

"What was the joke? That the tower looks like a penis?" He glanced up at the enormous tower. "Oh, well, yes, I suppose it does a bit. I thought you were actually interested in the history of Kinloch Hold, though."

"Do I look like someone who'd be interested in its blasted history?" Oghren asked.

"Yes, well, I'll try to put more male sex organs in my next history lesson, Oghren," Alim muttered. "Since you seem to like _them_ so much."

"Draw your sword and say that twice," the dwarf growled.

Alim grinned. "Don't make me light your trousers on fire, dwarf."

"Sodding mages."

* * *

><p>First Enchanter Irving was waiting for them on the other side. Two templars stood at his side, in full plate metal and helmets, so Serena couldn't see who they were.<p>

"Commander! How wonderful to see you once again." The old man embraced Serena like he would his own granddaughter and Serena smiled. He reminded her of Aldous, just a bit, when she was younger. He had been much too stodgy in his old age for hugs.

"We received your letter, of course, just this morning," Irving continued, smiling politely at the rest. His eyes landed on Alim and a look passed over him, somewhere between confusion and surprise. "Alim! I'm... I'm surprised to see you here."

"Hello, First Enchanter," Alim replied with a slight bow of his head. "In my absence from the tower, I've... ah, joined the Grey Wardens."

"So you have, so you have. Good for you, my boy. I always knew you were destined for great things." He looked quickly to Wynne and something seemed to pass between the two older mages before Irving turned up the smile again. "Well, I'm sure you're all weary from your travels, come inside. Commander-"

"Oh, please, call me Serena, First Enchanter," Serena corrected lightly.

"Only if you call me Irving, dear girl." He led them up the circular staircase. "Greagoir and I have been working hard since the... incident... trying to get the tower and the Circle back into shape. I daresay you won't recognize it."

"After your initial sweep of the tower, we found more people, hiding from the abominations and things in closets and storerooms. Together we've been working with the templars to scour the halls of the corruption." There was a pause as the templars unlocked the tower's giant metal door. "Of course, we haven't been without our struggles."

"It is an uphill battle we fight now, it would seem," Serena murmured. Irving gave her a knowing nod as they moved inside out of the cold.

Entering the tower proper, it was a bustle of activity. Young mages swept by, chattering excitedly at the sight of guests. Two young apprentices waved to Wynne, coming up to wrap the old woman in a big hug. Templars stood at set intervals throughout the halls, staring impassively around.

Serena fell into step beside Irving. "How have... _tensions_ been? Better, I hope?"

"Oh, it sounds horrible of course, but sometimes I think perhaps Uldred's incident _helped_ matters. We see each other now as people, whereas before..." Irving sighed. "It was more difficult before. But I am sure it will not last. It never does."

"Progress is slow," Wynne said sagely. "But it does happen."

"Indeed it does, and may Andraste lend us Her patience as we try to muddle through."

* * *

><p>The rest of the day was taken up by meetings with the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander Greagoir. Serena told them of Loghain's attempts to dispose of Serena and her fellow Wardens, and the acquisition of Ser Boyd. Greagoir was pleased to have another templar at his disposal, and for his part, Boyd seemed happily resigned to his new position within the Tower.<p>

They discussed Dagna, and her education in the Circle of Magi after that. At first both of the older men had seemed hesitant, a dwarf had never petitioned to live and study within the tower before. But once Dagna had opened her mouth, knowledge and excitement had flowed forth, delighting Irving, at least, to no end. The two had left the meeting together, discussing academic research schedules to the Knight-Commander's rolling eyes.

"With Surana gone, it'll be good for Irving to have another protege, I think," Greagoir murmured to Serena. "He's been lonely these past months. None of the apprentices have stepped up the task."

"Dagna is a wonderful student, of that I can assure you." Serena smiled. "Though mind she doesn't talk your ear off, Knight-Commander."

It was late in the evening when Serena finally got away, and she found herself heading down the halls towards the tower's small chapel, seeking sanctuary from the endless meetings and compromises and planning. An arresting statue of Andraste, head bowed in contemplation, stood at the chapels' altar, and Serena headed directly for it.

The chapel was empty save for a few guttering candles, and she found herself unsurprised. Mages, especially, did not particularly follow the teachings of the Chantry, or believe the Chant of Light, though she thought perhaps a stray templar or two...

Oh well, Serena thought. This way I know I won't be bothering anyone, at least. Kneeling low before the grand statue, Serena dipped her head in prayer.

"Dear Maker... often have You heard me call to you. Tonight I wish to say thank You, for all You have provided. I have followed the path You set me on, and I have met so many of Your wonderful creations, so many people who have helped me..."

Serena thought of her companions, and how each had saved her life in one way or another over the past few months. She would be dead hundreds of times over without their support, and perhaps one of the loneliest souls in Thedas without their constant friendship.

"They are amazing people with skills... skills they've used to serve You, and save our lands. I humbly ask Your protection for my friends, for all the people who have touched my life. I pray for Your guidence in the coming weeks as we stand united against the darkspawn. I pray to You, my Maker and Guide, that we carry ourselves with the same bravery as Your Bride, our Prophet, the courageous Andraste. May Your light guide us always. Amen."

"Amen," echoed a voice from behind Serena. She turned and stood, expecting one of her companions, only to find a templar standing there, the sword of mercy reflecting brightly on his silver armor. He removed his helm, placing it gently on one of the pews.

"I am not sure if you remember me, my lady," he began. His reddish gold curls were longer, and he was scrubbed clean, his cheeks pink, if not a little stubbly. Serena squinted, she _knew_ that face. It was the templar, the one they had found trapped below the Harrowing Chamber in that... cage... nearly driven mad by his own temptations.

"Ser Cullen." She inclined her head in a slight bow. "Of course I remember you. I rather think I owe you an extensive apology, in fact."

The templar cocked his head to the side, his dark eyes examining her face, perhaps tracing the minute differences between hers and that of the mage, Solona. He smiled crookedly, and it reminded her of Alistair, just the tiniest bit. "And here I thought I owed you _my_ thanks."

Serena shook her head fervently. "I shouldn't have-" Her voice cut out. She shouldn't have pretended, she meant to say.

"I am glad you did," Cullen said, holding up a hand to halt her speech. "I was in that cage for... days, though it felt like weeks at times. I had nearly lost all hope of ever..." He shook his head. "I needed something to believe in, even if it was only for a few more moments. You gave me that. And then you gave me my freedom. You... you gave many of us our freedom."

"Enchanter Amell has volunteered as one of the mages that will assist you against the archdemon," he continued, running a hand through his curly hair. "The list of volunteers was surprisingly long, actually." He laughed and it was a little hoarse, like he didn't do it very often. "I think you and your companions made quite the impression on the tower and it's populace, my lady."

"It shall be an army they will write about for ages, I think," Serena said softly. "Mages, elves, dwarves... all the aspects of mankind, brought together to usher in a new way for Ferelden, to show that we can stand united against a common enemy." She looked up at the statue of Andraste again. "I think Our Lady would be proud."

Cullen nodded thoughtfully at that, his eyes on the statue as well. "I discussed it with the Knight-Commander, and with his permission, I shall be leading a small contingency of templars to march with you, as well. For the first time, possibly ever, we shall fight as warriors for the Maker, _beside_ the mages."

"That's... that's fantastic, Ser Cullen!" Serena turned and wrapped him in an unexpected hug. "You have no idea what that means to me, to have someone like you here, leading this change." She released the templar and he backed up awkwardly. She supposed they weren't hugged very often, as Alistair had reacted almost the same when she had first touched him. "I apologize-"

"It's q-quite alright," Cullen replied, a slight stutter snaking into his speech. "I... we d-don't..." He cleared his throat. "I have not been hugged very often, so I must admit I am not very good at it. Plus, you... look a lot like her, still."

"It's a bit uncanny, isn't it?" Serena said, turning towards the statue of Andraste. "When I first saw her I was quite taken aback... it was like seeing a long-lost twin I... didn't know I had."

"She has green eyes, though... like the color of the sea near the shore. And your hair... it has those strands of red... Solona's is inky black, like a starless sky." The templar had come to stand beside her, his almond colored eyes staring up at the Bride of the Maker.

"Thought about this a lot, hmm?"

The knight chuckled. "Yes, well, we went back on patrols weeks ago... there isn't much to do late at night when you're standing guard by yourself, except... think." There was a long pause before Cullen spoke again, his voice quiet in the darkened chapel. "May I inquire on your own relationship? I saw the way that blonde man looked at me when you said to me... when you said that you..." He trailed off.

"We're engaged, actually," Serena whispered back. She held out her hand, the small silver ring glinting in the low torchlight. "His name is Alistair. He is... the love of my life."

"I owe you my heartfelt congratulations, my lady, I think."

"Thank you, Ser Knight." Serena couldn't help but smile at the formality of their meeting. Despite being a noble from birth, she wondered if she would ever get used to people greeting her with so many "my lady's" peppered throughout.

"Do you ever wonder if it's meant to last?" Cullen said suddenly. He looked quickly at Serena before staring at his boots. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything..."

"I used to wonder," Serena replied. "I used to wonder... what if we don't make it? We're some of the last Grey Wardens in Ferelden, you know. The chances of us surviving..." There was an awkward pause, where Serena could hear the knight's sharp intake of breath. "But then I realized... it doesn't matter. I've said everything I ever wanted him to hear. Everything I ever _needed_ him to hear. And as much pain as we've experienced, and I have no doubt there is more to come in both of our futures..."

"I love him more than life itself, and I know he loves me the same. I can die peacefully, whenever that is, knowing that I loved as much as I could, as well as I could." Serena put her hand over the knight's metal gauntlet, her eyes searching for his. "You should tell her."

"I know."

Serena glanced at him, his head bowed now, as if in prayer. She had hoped he would say he already had. Perhaps she had underestimated the barriers between templars and mages, even now, after everything that had happened. "The way you talk about Solona... I can hear how much you care for her. She deserves to know how you feel before..." She let the sentence hang in the air.

"You're right." The knight sighed heavily, his eyes resting on Serena again, on her hand. No, on her ring. "I'll tell her. I'll tell Solona I... I... how I feel. Though... What if she doesn't... what if it's not...?"

"My mother once told me a life without love is no life at all," Serena murmured, patting his shoulder. "I wish you luck, Cullen."

The templars voice was quiet as she stepped past him, so quiet she nearly missed it. "Thank you, Serena."


	67. Chapter 67

**Author's Note:** Thanks all for the reviews! This chapter went through a lot of rewrites before I was finally willing to let it go, so hopefully you all like it. Special thanks to KnightofHolyLight, who inspired part of the first section of the chapter. :)

* * *

><p><span>Chapter <span>67 - _Showing __Your __Hand_

Arl Eamon and his entourage met them in Dragon's Peak, an arling just outside the limits of Denerim. Fergus and his men marched in from the West Road, having answered a plea for help in South Reach three days prior. Since last seeing him, Serena learned that under his command, the men had put down no less than four darkspawn raids all over the south.

It was another days solid march until they reached Denerim's gates, and Serena was feeling the pressure of being away from Alistair as they camped. To avoid awkward talks with the arl, they had decided to sleep separately, and Serena hadn't had such miserable sleep in months. Even apart, Eamon seemed to keep one eye on Alistair at all times, as if afraid he'd slink off to avoid taking the throne. The morning they were meant to march into the capital, Alistair dipped into her tent, his face looking panicked.

"So, uh, he knows." Alistair peeked outside the tent before ducking back in quickly. "Did your brother tell him? Because I'm almost sure he knows."

Serena looked up from packing her belongings into a crate. "What? Who knows? Knows what?" They were due to begin the march to Denerim in an hour. What crisis had happened in the scant time between waking up and now?

"Us. I think Eamon knows about _us_." Another peek outside. "I think he's looking for me to tell me so. Or tell me off. Or tell us both off. I don't know."

"Oh, dear." Serena slumped to the ground. She glanced at the ring on her hand. Had he seen it? They'd only been in camp one day... but they _had_ eaten their meals with the man, and he'd certainly proved himself observant. "So what do we do? Avoid him?"

"What do you think I'm trying to do right now?"

"You don't think the first place he'd look for you is _here_? With _me_?"

Alistair cursed. "Maybe I should just tell him. I mean, we have nothing to be worried about, right? Your family is second to the king in power, anyway. He should be... he should be happy for us." There was a long pause where they both just stared at each other. "Right?"

"Right."

Alistair ducked out of the tent again in a rush, Serena right behind him. They weren't even five feet before Eamon hailed them over with a wave of his hand.

"Just the people I was hoping to see." Eamon gestured them inside his tent, missing the nervous exchange of glances between the two. "Sit down, sit down. We have some things to discuss." He gestured to two pop-up chairs provided for generals of the army.

"I've been speaking with your brother Fergus," the arl began, taking a seat across from them. Serena felt her stomach clinch at his words. Had Alistair been right? "And I know both of you are very close, so I wanted to get both of your opinions as well."

"Opinions?" Alistair gulped. "A-about what?"

"I think Fergus' identity should be protected, until Loghain and Howe show their hand, but your brother thinks we'd have a stronger position in the Landsmeet if the other nobles knew what happened in Highever, and that the rightful teryn stood behind you, Alistair."

"Oh! Oh, well." Serena let out a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Fergus is very strong-willed, and while I see his point, Highever's proper vote in the Landsmeet _would_ mean a great deal for Alistair's cause... until we can figure out what Howe is up to, I wouldn't trade my brother's life for a vote."

"I agree," Alistair said, nodding. "He would become a target, and with Serena and I there, I rather think Loghain has enough to be aiming at already. Not to mention _your_ miraculous recovery, your grace."

"Yes, I'm positive Loghain is furious his poison did not fell me as planned, but Fergus could be just the wild card we need to throw him and Rendon Howe off their game." Eamon pursed his lips, nodding thoughtfully. "I will speak with Bryland and see if we can't outfit the Highever men in something else."

"Was that all you needed from us, your grace?" Serena asked. She was itchy to get out from under the steady gaze of the older man and could feel Alistair tense up beside her.

"As far as politics go, yes. But I wonder if I might caution you both, though."

"Caution us?"

"About your relationship." It was so quiet in the tent you could have heard a pin drop. "I'm not so old that I don't understand young love, but I do ask that you keep your affections to a minimum in the capital." Eamon's eyes flipped from Serena to Alistair and back again, as if he could hammer the point home simply through looking at them. "Like Fergus, your feelings could easily be used against our cause."

"You're not... asking us to... break up, are you?" Alistair asked carefully.

"No," Eamon replied with a shake of his head. "I see that you are both quite good for each other. I simply ask that you be _cautious_. And please remember your duty to Ferelden."

Alistair bowed his head solmnly. "Of course, your grace."

"I'm sure both of you have packing to do before we ride. When we enter Denerim today, I would like both of you riding next to me." The Arl rose, signaling Serena and Alistair to do the same. "I appreciate how well you've taken this transition, Alistair. You've certainly grown into an outstanding young man." He clapped the blonde on the back fondly, leading both of them outside, now clearly dismissing them. "I shall see you both in an hour for the march." With a curt nod, he stepped away, hailing Ser Perth with a hand.

Alistair let out a breath. "Wow. So, _that_ was weird."

"And unexpected," Serena agreed. "I thought that was going to be Wynne: the sequel."

"Right? The look on his face, you'd think someone _died_. Would it kill him to smile once in awhile? And what was that bit about me being an outstanding young man?"

"You _are_ outstanding." Serena grinned impishly, poking him in the ribs. "Eamon just doesn't know at _what_, exactly."

"And there you go, making me blush." Alistair put a hand over his face, the red of his embarrassment creeping up his neck to his cheeks. "You know you can't do this to me when I'm king, right? You'll undermine my _very_ _serious_ rule."

Serena dropped her voice to a whisper, practically purring in his ear as they headed back through the camp to their own tents. "I thought I'd get special permissions? What with being your wife and all."

"Damn. I _knew_ that ring was a mistake." Alistair chuckled. "I guess I'm stuck with you now, eh?"

"Very stuck." They slipped into Serena's tent quickly and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "This might be the last time I get to see you like this, you know. Before we have to start acting like adults full time."

"Then let's the make the most of it, love," Alistair murmured, pressing his lips down to hers.

* * *

><p>The streets of Denerim were even dingier than last time Serena and her companions had entered the capital. Many of the black banners had been removed, as the Regent declared the official mourning period for King Cailan over, though Serena saw most of the citizens still wore the armbands on their person.<p>

The Redcliffe soldiers marched first through the streets, the red cliff shields shining brightly in the noonday sun. Citizens pointed, oohing and ahhing at the sight, some even outright cheering and clapping, as the men of Fergus' pocket army marched on next, different crests visible.

The only notable heraldry absent was that of Highever, by Eamon's personal request. As far as anyone knew, the rightful teyrn was still thought missing, presumed dead, in the forests of the Kocari Wilds, so all of Highever's surviving men bore the crest of the South Reach, by Arl Bryland's generous donation.

The sentries set at Denerim's city gates nodded stiffly as they passed on horseback. The Arl had sent along scouts ahead of them, to ensure they would not be held out by Loghain's men, and their grand entrance into the city tarnished by a possible fight.

Eamon, despite not having fought in the military campaign to retake Ferelden, was something of a genius when it came to presentation of martial might. The small army of men, all clad in the different heraldries of their hometowns, to inspire the refugees. The nobles with them were on horseback near the front, including Bann Teagan and Arl Bryland, to allow them to be at full view of the people.

All of it was part of a show that the arl meant to put on for Loghain and Howe, to show their strength coming into the Landsmeet. All was meant to show any remaining fence-sitting nobles that _this_ was the winning party, that to support Loghain was to support a weak king and an even weaker kingdom. Serena couldn't help marvel at the brilliance of it, and silently thank the Maker Arl Eamon was on her side.

"Denerim is the heart and soul of Ferelden. It was the city of King Calenhad, the birthplace of Andraste. As stubborn as a mabari, and as good to have on your side." Arl Eamon was riding along between Alistair and herself, looking stately on his large black stead. "If we defeat Loghain here, the rest of the nation will follow us."

"By calling the Landsmeet, I've struck the first blow," Eamon continued. "The advantage, for the moment, is ours. Loghain will have little choice but to show himself, to oppose us directly." He paused, taking in Serena and Alistair thoughtfully. "He _will_ strike back at us, however. The only question that reminds is how soon?"

"Ah, well, there's Loghain's lieutenant, that Cauthrien woman." Alistair nodded to an armored woman who was staring openly at the procession, her mouth set tight. "I remember her from the camp, back in Ostagar. Solid fighter, if a bit too... complacent."

"If she's Loghain's second, she's blind at best," Serena replied, her blue eyes catching Cauthrien's dark ones. The woman scowled at her before turning and walking swiftly away, presumably back to Loghain to report what she'd seen. "And suicidal at worst."

* * *

><p>It wasn't long after that before Loghain arrived at the Arl of Redcliffe's Denerim estate. Eamon appeared momentarily surprised as they strode into the main entrance hall, Loghain's face set hard as stone. Alistair exchanged quick glances with Serena as his companions came into full view; Cautherien at his side as always, and on Loghain's other side, none other than Arl Rendon Howe.<p>

Serena felt her blood boil worse than the taint at the sight of the stubbly man, wishing nothing more than to grab Alistair's sword and skewer Howe on the end of it. She felt Alistair's hand at her back briefly as they faced them, his calming presence the only thing keeping the tight smile plastered on her face.

"Loghain," Eamon said. "This is... an honor, that the regent would find time to greet me personally."

"How could I not welcome a man so important as to call every lord in Ferelden away from his estates while a Blight claws at our land?" Serena noticed Loghain looked much older than last they'd seen him Ostagar. Perhaps guilt was aging him prematurely?

"The Blight is why I'm here. With Cailan dead, Ferelden _must_ have a king to lead it against the darkspawn."

"Ferelden has a strong leader," Loghain countered, his voice rising angrily. "It's _queen_. And I lead her armies."

Serena stepped forward to stand beside the Arl. "Considering the _significant_ losses at Ostagar, perhaps we need a new general, as well."

"Ah, the Grey Warden recruit. I thought we might meet again."

"Warden-Commander Serena Cousland, if you please, Teyrn Loghain." Serena stood tall, trying to keep her smile from slipping into something smug or cruel. "I have worked hard these last few months, it is a title I have earned."

"I see." Loghain exchanged a look with Howe, who appeared flushed at the sight of her standing so brazen before them. "I find myself surprised your fellow Warden did not take up the mantle of Commander."

"Alistair has so many titles already- knight, Warden, _prince_." Serena smiled as the dark haired general flinched visibly at that. "It just seemed so excessive to add Commander on, as well, so I took it upon myself."

"Yes, well, you have my sympathies on what happened to your order. It is unfortunate that they chose to turn against Ferelden."

"That's an interesting point of view," Alistair murmured. "_Wrong_, but interesting."

"I daresay your sympathies are quite misplaced if you believe the Wardens have ever had anything in mind beyond the destruction of the archdemon and the eradication of the darkspawn, Teryn Loghain. The deaths of our brothers and sisters that night are a scar Alistair and I shall forever bare, but I'll not have you stand before me and pretend it was not _you_ who commanded your men to quit the field."

"You should curb your tongue, Commander," Loghain spat, his own face inches from Serena's. "This is _my_ city, and no safe place to speak treason. For anyone." He turned to Arl Eamon, apparently done with Serena for the moment. "There is talk that your illness left you feeble, Eamon. Some worry that you may no longer be fit to advise Ferelden."

"'Illness'?" Eamon laughed bitterly, and it was as good as if he'd stuck a finger in Loghain's face. "Why not call your poison by its true name? Not everyone at the Landsmeet will cast aside their loyalties as easily as you and these... _sycophants_."

"How long you've been gone from court, Eamon! Don't you recognize Rendon Howe, Arl of Amaranthine, and Teyrn of Highever?"

"And current arl of Denerim, after Urien's unfortunate fate at Ostagar," Howe added, his slimy smile slipping out from under his hook nose. "Truly, it is an embarrassment of riches."

"That's certainly a lot of titles for one man to have," Serena replied haughtily. "I wonder, were my parents bodies even cold before you swooped into my former home and claimed it for your own?"

"Don't interrupt, churl," Cauthrien said sharply. "Your betters are talking."

"Advice well spoken by the only person in the room without a title or a purpose in being here," Serena shot back. "Or did Teyrn Loghain gift you lands of your own in our absence? Perhaps your teyrna of Highever?" She looked around mockingly, as if waiting for someone to speak up on the knight's behalf. "No? Perhaps you ought to run along then, the _adults_ are speaking now."

"Why, you-" Cauthrien was red with rage but stopped when Loghain shot her a quick glare.

"Enough, Cauthrien, this is not the time or place." Loghain turned his icy blue eyes back on Eamon, while the lady knight dropped back a step, her eyes still staring daggers at Serena. "I had hoped to talk you down from this rash course, Eamon. Our people are frightened, our king is dead. Our land is under siege."

"We must be united now, if we are to endure this crisis. You own sister, Queen Rowan, fought tirelessly to see Ferelden restored. Would you see her work destroyed? You divide our nation and weaken our efforts against the Blight with your selfish ambitions to the throne."

Serena couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Selfish ambitions to the throne? When _you_ have declared yourself regent to the Crown? Are you mad?"

Eamon crossed his arms, his eyes on the teyrn. "Loghain, if you truly want to save this land, stand with us."

"I should put my faith in untried _foreign_ hands? Do you think I'm blind?" Loghain threw up his arms. "Cailan depended on the Grey Warden's prowess against the darkspawn, and look how well that ended. Let us speak of reality, rather than tall tales. Stories will not save us."

"And what of the story of the great Hero of the River Dane? Shall I discredit that, too?"

"Oh, and a great many stories I've heard about you, girl," Loghain retorted, his eyes flashing angrily to Serena. "_Commander_, indeed..."

"Be that as it may," Eamon said loudly. "I cannot forgive what you've done, Loghain. Perhaps the Maker can, but not I. Our people deserve a king of the Theirin bloodline. Alistair will be the one to lead us to victory in this Blight."

"Oh, is that all I have to do? No pressure, then." Alistair chuckled, though it was humorless.

"The emperor of Orlais also thought I could not bring _him_ down," Loghain growled, getting right in Eamon's face. "Expect no more mercy than I showed him. There is _nothing_ I would not do for my homeland." With a fiery glare, he turned on his heel and left, his two cronies flanking him on either side.

The arl put a hand to his temples, his eyes towards the ceiling. "Well, that was... bracing. I didn't expect Loghain to show himself quite so soon."

"He's much more far gone than I thought," Serena said, her eyes still on the door Loghain and the others had left out of. "I thought he was simply a power crazed madman, honestly, cut from the same cloth as Howe. But Loghain... he _believes_ his own lies. He truly believes he did... that he is doing what is _best_ for Ferelden."

Alistair nodded. "He's mad. And that he's given that man, Howe, so much..."

"Rendon Howe always seemed the kind of man who enjoyed kicking stray dogs," Eamon replied. "I would not have thought Loghain would trust him. Granted, I would not think a lot of what Loghain has done in these last months was his doing, and yet..."

"I also found it curious that Anora was absent from this little parade. He brings that impertinent woman, but mysteriously leaves the Queen at home? Very odd."

"Yes, Anora's absence spoke volumes, I think, of how Loghain would rule should we lose," the arl said with a nod. "Which is why we must _not_ lose. The roots of his schemes must begin here. We need eyes and ears in the city. Loghain has been here for months. The sooner we find his loose ends, the better we can turn them to our advantage."

"Perhaps you could go have a look around the city and see what you can turn up. Better yet, find the nobles who have arrived for the Landsmeet. Test the waters, see how many will support us. I shall be in my sitting room, working on a plan for the Landsmeet, should you need me." With a curt nod to Serena and Alistair, he strode out of the room, looking deep in thought.

"So, that was fun," Alistair said dryly. "Though I prefer to be served up on a _silver_ platter. It's much classier. Don't you think?"

Serena wrapped an arm around his neck, smiling gently. "Are you doing okay so far? I know this is... a lot for you."

"Depends, when is the Landsmeet?"

"Well, we have to wait until all the nobles in Ferelden arrive, which... could take weeks. Every freeholder in the country shows up, especially for something as big as choosing a king." Serena ran her fingers through his soft blonde hair. "If you'd like, I could help you study. You're already much better than I am at keeping your temper."

"Ha, true. You really let that Cauthrien woman have it. 'The adults are speaking now.'" Alistair laughed, his diaphragm thrumming happily against Serena. "I could have _died_."

"She was being rude," Serena murmured. "And... I don't like her face."

"Is the coast clear?" a voice called from the hallway. Zevran poked his head around the door, Alim and Leliana coming out from behind him. "We did not want to interrupt your argument with the scary metal man."

"Alim said _that_ was the Hero of River Dane." Leliana frowned. "I had thought he would be taller."

"I would be willing to bet that is not the _only_ thing out of proportion," Alistair said with a smirk. At Serena's look, he sobered, holding up his hands in surrender. "What? He's obviously compensating for _something_..."

Serena rolled her eyes, turning instead to Zevran. "I'm glad you guys are here. Eamon wants us out in the city, drumming up information on Loghain's scheming." Her eyes flicked from Leliana to Zevran. "I don't suppose a bard and an assassin would be any good at that?"

"I am _made_ for missions like this," Leliana replied with a mischievous grin. "I shall take Chantry gossip and the Market District, if you don't mind, Zev."

"That leaves me the Dregs, and the Pearl," the assassin replied with a wistful sigh. "Ah, brothels. They say you can never go home again, but for ten silvers an hour you can get pretty close."

"What about me?" Alim asked. "I'm no spy, but I could go to the Alienage, see if there's any gossip there. A lot of the elves work in noble's houses during the day. Perhaps they've heard something?"

"That is a brilliant idea, Alim! Alright, Alistair I will hit some of the taverns, and we'll meet back here before dinner." There were nods of agreement from the others as they made their way to the estate gates.

"Be safe!" Leliana called, waving as she disappeared beyond the walls.

"Be smart," Zevran added, making his way south.

"I don't have anything snappy to say," Alim said with a small shrug. "I'll see you both at supper."

Alistair held out his arm to Serena, who took it lightly. "And then there were two."


	68. Chapter 68

**Author's Note**: Thanks to everyone reviewing and following along! Because of NaNoWriMo, I've gotten a little behind in writing TtP, so updates will be Monday and Thursday for November. Apologies for that! Things are about to pick up quite a bit though, so I hope you all enjoy!

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><p><span>Chapter <span>68 - _Friends __in __High __Places_

The afternoon air was full of chill as Serena and Alistair stepped out of the tavern. They hadn't learned much of anything eavesdropping on the nobility of the Gnawed Noble Tavern, except that the son of Bann Sighard, of Dragon's Peak, was apparently missing.

"I hope Zevran and the rest end up gathering more intelligence than we did," Alistair huffed. They were dressed in the clothes of nobility, rather than their armor, in an attempt to blend in.

"L-Lady Serena? Is that you?"

Apparently their subtle disguises were not working, Serena thought. Turning quickly, she barely recognized the sound of the voice as the person gasped. A dark haired young man stood staring at her, his cheeks flushing slightly. How in the realm..?

"S-Samuell? By the Maker!" Serena exclaimed, sprinting towards the man as she wrapped her arms around him. "I thought you were dead!"

"I can say I honestly thought the same of you, my lady." Ser Samuell grinned, hugging her tight. "I should have known you'd find a way out. Sweet Maker, what are you doing here in Denerim?"

"Oh, I'm..." Serena glanced around, lowering her voice. "I'm a Grey Warden now. That man, Duncan, he rescued me back at Highever. But nevermind that, how did _you_ get here?"

"Oh. Ah. Gilmore, actually," the dark haired man replied, dipping his head. "He held the front gates as long as he could, and sent me and Ser Foster to round up whatever castle staff we could find, help them out the back." He shook his head sadly. "There were about ten of us by the end, Howe's men had scoured the whole castle, hunting anyone they didn't recognize as one of their own. We barely made it out."

"Regardless, two of the staff, elves, they had family here in the Alienage, and my cousin Moira lives here, so we decided to make our way to the capital. I got a job with the city guard pretty quickly." Samuell laughed bitterly. "How ironic, eh?"

"How do you mean?"

"Howe's _here_. In Denerim. The regent made him the Arl of Denerim, too, when Arl Urien died at Ostagar..." Samuell shook his head, his voice laced with cold fury. "A bloody traitor, running the most prestigious arl in all of Ferelden. The Maker sure shows us mercy in interesting ways, I suppose."

"Yes, I saw him for myself just earlier today, along with our most glorious regent. Howe's calling himself Teyrn of Highever, along with Arl of Amaranthine _and_ Denerim." Serena cursed. "I can't believe it. He was one of my father's oldest friends..."

"Believe it, my lady," the knight answered gravely. "The city has been just short of chaos ever since, too. Rumor has it he's keeping Urien's son in his estate's dungeons, along with anyone else who puts pressure on the regent... I haven't been able to check it out myself yet, Howe forbade the city guard from patrolling the grounds."

"Interesting. We've heard Bann Sighard's son is missing, as well. Perhaps Howe knows something of that?" Serena tapped her foot, her mind working swiftly. "I know you probably have to get back to work, but... we're staying with the Arl of Redcliffe, would you... be able to meet us at the estate later tonight? There's so much to discuss."

"Of course, my lady," Samuell answered. "I shall meet you at... nine? My patrol ends just after the evening bells."

"That's perfect, see you then." Serena gave the former knight a little wave and hurried back to Alistair. "Uh, hi. Sorry. I probably should have introduced you, but... that was one of the knights, from Highever, one of my father's men. I didn't think any of them escaped."

"Yes, I wondered why you ran off to hug a strange man." Alistair raised an eyebrow, his eyes following the knight's retreating back. "Did any of the others survive... survive what happened?"

"Samuell said around ten or so. Another knight, Ser Foster, and some of the servants in the castle." Serena dropped her voice. "He told me Howe has forbade the city guard from patrolling the Denerim estate. And there's a rumor he's holding Urien's son in the dungeons there... Isn't that interesting?"

"Extremely," Alistair replied. "I wonder if Alim will uncover any more information from the elves... surely some of them work in Howe's new palace."

"That man's list of crimes just gets longer and longer by the day." Serena shook her head, falling into step beside Alistair. "I can't decide whether Loghain is a brilliant mastermind or the laziest politician I've ever seen..."

"How about we split the difference and just refer to him as the biggest prat in Thedas?" Alistair nodded to the two sentries standing outside Arl Eamon's estate as they passed. "You know, the more he mucks things up, the more I want to win in the Landsmeet."

Serena arched an eyebrow. "Being King isn't so scary now?"

"Oh, it's terrifying," Alistair assured her. "But when I think about everything Loghain has done in the last few months, how much he's weakened Ferelden... the fact that he's willing to kill anyone who stands in his way, or even appears to disagree with him... I just can't abide it any longer." He took a deep breath. "If there's something we can do, something _I_ can do, to better the nation, I have to do it."

Serena popped up on her toes and kissed the tip of Alistair's nose, smiling broadly. "And _that _is why you'll be a fantastic King, my love."

* * *

><p>It was later in the evening when Serena finally got around to sorting through the various messages her companions had left for her from their forays scouting in the city. Surprisingly, among the pile was a letter from Bodahn. Picking up the dwarf's note first, her smile became a deep frown as she read it.<p>

'_Gathered what information I could while trading in Highever. The castle is under renovation due to insurgency from the people against the new Teyrn. Once it was known the Couslands had been murdered, the city guard tried to forcibly take back the teyrnir, only to be hanged in the city square by Howe's men. _

_Howe has since installed his own men in the guard, though there are whispers of another rebellion brewing among the nobles due to the heavy taxes Howe has levied on them. There is talk among the elves that Howe's men storm the Alienage weekly looking for weapons; he is paranoid about them taking up arms against him..._'

"Hello, sister dear." Fergus slid into the study, flopping easily into one of the comfortable sitting chairs. "What has you frowning so?" Serena pushed Bodahn's letter over the table to her brother, her lips set in a grim line. Fergus read it, his eyes flipping back and forth across the lines quickly.

"Howe will die for this," the dark haired man said, his voice deadly serious. "It was not enough for him to murder our family, he disgraces our people and forces them to pay for his crimes..." Fergus's hand clenched, crushing Bodahn's letter in his fist. "I'll have his head on a pike if it's the last thing I do."

"The bit about the elves worries me, after what Alim told me about the Denerim Alienage." She pulled out the notice Alim had handed her, which clearly stated that any elves found with blades or weapons of any kind would be hung immediately. "If Howe is here, I wonder who is running Highever and Amaranthine?"

"Cronies of his, probably," Fergus replied. "Or that son of his... Nathaniel, was it? I doubt Highever is much better off with him here."

"He said Nathaniel was in the Free Marches," Serena said, the quill in her hand tapping rhythmically against the parchment. "Maybe Thomas? Though he's only sixteen... Perhaps a regent?" She shook her head. "I suppose it doesn't matter. Once we win the Landsmeet we can turn the army north, and deal with Howe."

"I doubt that pesky archdemon will wait that long, Sister," said Fergus. He put a firm hand over hers, halting the tapping. "Highever, our parents... it will all be avenged, but do not fall into the same trap as Loghain and Howe, thinking of your personal squabbles before the good of Ferelden."

"You're right, I... I wasn't thinking. These missives-" she indicated the scattered papers. "They just make me so angry. How could one man muck up so much in a matter of months?"

"I would not be shocked if Rendon Howe has had these machinations in line for much longer than Loghain has been Regent."

"Serena?" Alistair popped his head in the door, looking sheepish. "Your friend is here, the knight?"

"Oh, I completely forgot." She turned to her brother. "You won't even believe it, Fergus. Samuell found me in the Market today. He escaped, along with Foster and some of the servants."

"Samuell's here?" Fergus stood up as Alistair led the dark haired knight turned city guardsmen into the study. Pulling the man to him in a hug, Fergus was all smiles. "Maker, it's been ages."

"It seems I am due for quite a few shocks this day," Samuell replied, bowing his head to Fergus and Serena. "My lord, my lady. The Maker must shine His light upon us, for I never thought to see you both again."

"A wonderful turn of events in these dark times," Fergus added. "What is it you're doing in the city?"

"I am but a proud member of Denerim's city guardsmen, my lord," Samuell replied with a nod. "As I was telling Lady Serena this afternoon, it is very interesting, with the new Arl... Howe does not allow the guardsmen to patrol the grounds of his estate, preferring his own men, from Amaranthine, to guard the estate on their own."

"We need to get to that estate, Fergus," Serena said keenly. "There's been rumors... some are saying he's holding nobles in the dungeons. Anyone who speaks out against the Regent or knows what happened at Ostagar."

"There has been a crowd at his door every morning, all day long, for every day this week." Samuell pulled one of the pieces of parchment on the table towards him, flipping it over and drawing a crude map. "Apparently our great friend Rendon Howe has not been paying his debts. Workmen, servants of Urien's... he had all the old employees tossed out, replaced with his own people, but word has it he hasn't been paying them back wages, either."

"Truly, it is an embarrassment of riches," Alistair said, mocking Howe's sniveling tone from earlier. "In fact, it is _so_ embarrassing, I cannot even pay my bills. I would much rather put the coin to use in my personal bath tub, so I may swim about in it like a fat, pale fish. Har har har."

Serena put a hand over her mouth, stifling the laugh that bubbled up at Alistair's jokes. She could see her brother was having an equally terrible time across the table, his cheeks above the beard were red.

"He _does _look a bit like a fat old fish, doesn't he?" Samuell hadn't looked up from his map making, but Serena could hear the smile in his voice. "So, I apologize I cannot give you the interior, as I said, he doesn't allow anyone inside, but there are exits here, here, here and here." He pointed to four circles on the map. "And an underground entrance here. Foster noticed it, we think it's for deliveries to the kitchen when there's a party."

"That's where we could hit them from, then," Fergus said, pointing at the x on the knight's map. "It's already underground, and may be near an entrance to Howe's dungeons."

"You know, I bet the Chantry has plans of the estate..." Alistair looked up from the map, his honey eyes thoughtful. "Their scholars keep maps of most of the older buildings in the city. At least, they did in Redcliffe, I know."

"So tomorrow, we get a map of the interior, and we figure out where this dungeon is, and how easily we could bust into it," Serena replied.

Alistair scoffed at that. "We took down a high dragon and a broodmother, no problem. This will be cake in comparison."

"I apologize for the shortness of my visit, but I'm afraid I must be getting back to the barracks. They will wonder if I dally too long." Samuell stood up to leave, the rest of the table following suit. "If I hear anything else through the guard, shall I send word here?"

"Yes. Perhaps use another name, so it isn't directly traced back to the city guard." Serena bit her lip, thinking hard. "Use... Master Bryceson. That way we'll know it's you, and you'll get to keep your job in the guard, too."

"It would be awful if I were hung for treason," Samuell said, the ghost of a smile still lighting his features. Serena smiled sadly, seeing the dark circles under the man's eyes. She couldn't imagine the kinds of things Loghain had commanded the city guard to do to cover up some of his machinations around Denerim.

"You'd hang right next to us, Sam," Fergus murmured, clapping the knight on the shoulder. "I'll see you out. Serena, we'll talk in the morning about the Denerim estate plans."

"As if I would just go barging into the place without you, Brother dearest," Serena replied, rolling her eyes at him. Watching the two men disappear out of the study, she turned her attention once again to the missives, setting them in a pile.

Alistair pushed his chair closer, glancing at the pile of parchment. "So, nobles in the dungeons, secrets on the grounds... what else have Loghain and Howe cooked up, my love?"

"Well, Bodahn sent me a letter saying the people of Highever are fighting his rule, and he's basically put the town on lockdown, it seems." She pushed the dwarf's note over to Alistair, continuing as he quickly read over it. "Howe's also taxing the nobles to cover the cost of the damages he incurred on the castle during the raids."

"And if there's one thing nobles hate, it's taxes." Alistair looked up from the paper, a smile lighting his handsome face. "I'm getting the hang of this kingly business after all."

"Soon you won't even need me," Serena joked.

"Nonsense. I'll always need you." He reached over, grasping her hand gently and tapping the ring there. "Forever."

"Forever," she repeated. Her heart swelled just then with her love for him, and her hope that everything would work out the way it was meant to. She had added a daily prayer to the Maker that they both come out of this with their heads intact, though considering how complicated the capital was becoming... It may end being a vain hope, at best.

The sound of footsteps coming down the hall caused them both to quickly separate, Alistair picking up the parchment and pretending to examine it closely, though upon closer inspection, she saw it was upside down.

"Good evening, Lady Serena... Prince Alistair." The servant entered the study, bowing deeply, once to each of them. "I hate to intrude, but the arl requests your presence in his sitting room. Immediately."

"This late at night?" Serena asked.

"It is urgent, he said," the man replied, bowing again. He stood there awkwardly as Serena realized the servant was sent to collect them as well. Sighing, she gathered up the papers again and followed the two men out the door.

* * *

><p>The servant led them into Eamon's sitting room where the arl was still dressed in his doublet from dinner. Next to him stood a much smaller figure, clad in a thick black cloak. Once the servant left, the figure removed the cloak's hood. Dark hair covered large pointed ears. Who was this then? Serena wondered. One of the servants from a noblemen's house?<p>

Eamon gestured to the elven woman with a hand, his face looking tired and a touch annoyed at the lateness of the guest. "This is Erlina. She's-"

"I am Queen Anora's handmaiden," Erlina cut in smoothly. Her speech was the same lilting, affected accent that Leliana had, though much thicker than the redheaded bard. "She sent me here to ask for your help."

Eamon smiled tightly, his slight annoyance now reading fully on his face. "Or perhaps the young lady prefers to speak for herself."

"Have you already heard what she has to say, your grace?" Serena asked, effectively cutting off the woman's spiel as she saw Erlina's mouth snap back closed.

"Yes, she claims Anora is being held captive by Howe."

"And how in the realm did Howe manage_ that_ under Loghain's nose?"

"The queen, she is in a difficult position!" Erlina exclaimed, looking quickly between Serena, Alistair and Eamon. "She loved her husband, no? And trusted her father to protect him. When he returns with no king and only dark rumors, what is she to think?"

"I shudder to wonder," Serena muttered darkly. "May I ask, are you Orlesian, Erlina? I love your accent."

The elven woman appeared taken aback by Serena's sudden change in conversational direction. "Why, y-yes, I was born in Jader, just beyond the Frostbacks. I... why does that matter?"

"Just curious. To be quite frank, Loghain hates Orlesians, he's really quite outspoken about it, so I just found it interesting he would allow his daughter to employ... well, _you_. I would imagine he would think you were a spy for the Empress, or some such thing.

"He is not my biggest fan, of that I can assure you. I was hired by King Cailan, though," the elf said, ducking her dark head. Serena noticed she wore a black arm bracelet, perhaps given to her by Anora? "So there is... _was_... little he could do it about it. Now my only protection is by my lady's grace. My queen suspects she cannot trust her father. And Loghain, he is very subtle, no? But Rendon Howe... he is privy to all the secrets and... not so subtle."

Serena chuckled at that. "No, no, he is not."

"Which brings us back to our original point," Eamon said quickly, urging the elven woman to get to the crux of the problem.

"So, she goes to Howe. A visit from the queen to the new arl of Denerim... it is only a matter of courtesy. And she demands answers."

"That's bold of her," Alistair murmured.

"And rather foolish," Serena added. "She must know Howe is a complete lunatic."

The elven woman nodded. "He calls her every sort of name, "traitor" being the kindest, and locks her in a guest room."

"At the manner."

"Yes," the elf replied.

"All roads led to Denerim, as they say," Zevran replied, leaning casually against the wall. Serena hadn't even noticed him slip into the room. She would have to tell him to be more careful about eavesdropping in the estate. They weren't at party camp anymore. "It would appear the new arl has many skeletons in his closet... and perhaps a queen or two." Serena saw Eamon's eyes flick to the assassin quickly at his interruption before resting on the ceiling in annoyance.

"Does Loghain know of this? Surely he wouldn't allow Howe to overstep like this."

"King Cailan was like a son to him, and Loghain left him to die," Erlina said, shaking her head sadly. "Does he love Anora more? Who can say? If she were to put herself in his way..." There was a long pause before the handmaiden looked up again, tears gleaming in her eyes.

"I think her life is in danger," the elf said earnestly. "I heard Howe say she would be a greater ally dead than alive. Especially if her death could be blamed on Arl Eamon."

Serena saw then how Erlina had made her way into the estate at so late an hour. She had played upon Eamon's fears like an expert lute player.

"Maker have mercy, only Howe would think regicide was a proper way of going about things," Serena said disgustedly.

"How can we even be sure that Anora is still there? Or alive?" Alistair looked from Eamon to Serena, his unspoken concern reading plainly. _This could be a trap._

"We may have no choice but to trust Erlina, and by extension, Anora. The queen is well-loved. If Loghain succeeded in pinning her death on me... I'm not sure that's a risk we can afford to take."

Serena sighed, not really seeing an alternative around it, either. At least they already had business there, anyway. "How do we go about this, then?" she asked tiredly.

"I have some uniforms," Erlina replied. "Arl Howe hires so many new guards every day, a few more will not cause much stir. I can show you to the servants' entrance. We must slip in and out with my queen before anyone is the wiser."

"Ah, that's the rub," Serena said, shaking her head. "We have other business there, too." She glanced at Eamon. "We believe he's holding some of the nobility captive in his dungeons. I intended to find out."

"Hmm. That would put us in a better position for the Landsmeet..." Eamon reasoned softly.

"Two groups then," Zevran said, stepping away from the wall. "The Wardens could rescue the queen, while another group checks the dungeons."

"That would take a lot of planning," Eamon murmured.

"My lady cannot wait long, Wardens," Erlina said. "Find me at the estate tomorrow, and I will led you in. There are only four uniforms, so choose wisely." With a curt nod, the elf left the room.

"I love how people ask for help and in the same breath tell us exactly how to go about it," Serena said grumpily. "How rude."

"Be that as it may, I think we'd do best to think this over carefully, and proceed even more so. There really is no way to tell if this is a trap or not." Eamon sighed, rubbing his temples. "It is late, let us rest for tomorrow will certainly be as exciting as today has been."

"I could really do with a bit less excitement in my life, actually," Alistair said humorlessly.

The older man smiled, clapping a hand on Alistair's shoulder as they exited the sitting room. "Me, too, my boy, me too."


	69. Chapter 69

**Author's Note: **Hello to all the new followers and readers (you're wonderful), and thanks to all of you reviewing (you are also wonderful!)

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><p><span>Chapter 69<span> - _Breaking __and __Entering_

The next morning began entirely too early for Alistair. Serena burst into his room at what felt like the crack of dawn, papers and maps filling her arms as she plunked down on the edge of his bed.

"Are you sure you're allowed to be in here, my lady?" Alistair teased. "What will the servants say?"

"That you sleep too much and your socks are filthy," Serena replied, spreading the parchment across his rumbled bedspread. "Leliana came back with these just now. I imagine Erlina's invitation won't last until the day's end, lovely."

"Heeerrrmmm. Apparently it won't even last until the sun's properly up. Send Peanut. He's a hearty sort." Alistair pulled the bedspread over his head just as Serena wrapped her arms around him, giggling.

"I'll call him in here and you'll be awoken by dog kisses rather than mine."

"Pfft, I have yet to see these supposed kisses," the blonde mumbled from under the thick blanket. "My lady is full of lies."

"Suit yourself," Serena warned, pushing him aside gently. Her felt the slight uptick of her nature magic as she began to reach out to her mabari and Alistair crumbled, pulling the blanket from his head.

"I give up! No dog kisses, please! His breath smells like death."

Serena grinned triumphantly. "I plan on using it against the darkspawn." Setting out the map once again, he saw her face switch back to its previous seriousness. "So, it turns out that entrance leads down to a lower level, but it isn't labeled as a basement or dungeon or anything at all, really." She pointed to a hallway that connected to a room marked 'study' in Serena's loopy script.

"You think that the study is the entrance?"

"I do, indeed."

"It'll be guarded, I bet." Alistair glanced about the map, eyeing the other passageways critically. "Heavily."

"That's why we're going in very differently. I'm not entirely sure this isn't a trap. Erlina had too many conveient answers for everything, and Anora is two steps from downright diabolical on a good day." Serena tapped a finger on the different entrances.

"We're going to enter here, with Erlina, in the guard uniforms. You, me, Alim and Fergus. Zevran is entering this way with Leliana, Morrigan and Wynne as servants, with Zevran acting as Peanut's handler. Sten and Oghren are going to stay here as back-up, since there's no possible way to explain away an eight foot tall qunari and a dwarf."

"They don't tend to blend in well, do they?"

Serena giggled. "It's a key flaw in the qunari domination plan, surely."

"So what do you need me to do?"

"Look handsome and manly, and wear this." She nodded her head at the helm of the guard uniform that rested atop his desk. "Mine doesn't fit as nicely because I don't have all your rippling muscles and such."

"You flatter me, love," Alistair said, stretching wide as she faked a swoon.

"You earned it, surely." Serena pressed a kiss to his nose and stood up, rolling the scattered maps back into her arms. "We're leaving soon, so get that on, and I'll meet you in the kitchen for breakfast."

Groaning, Alistair pulled himself out of the bed and stumbled into the tiny side bathroom. Shoving his head into the water set aside in the basin for him, he nearly squealed at the instant gooseflesh that erupted all over his body.

"You better appreciate all the heartache I go through for you, Serena," Alistair grumbled to the chilly air. "I could be sleeping in..."

* * *

><p>"Alim, a word?"<p>

Morrigan slipped out of her bedroom, catching the other mages arm and pulling him in. He was wearing the ill-fitting guard uniform, and it made him long for his robes. The splint mail was heavy, and the short sword he carried kept banging against his thigh. He didn't know how Serena and the others could stand it. He missed his staff, but it wouldn't do to carry one around the arl's estate.

"Uh, hello, Morrigan. What can I do for you?"

"You've heard the plan, I'm sure." Without waiting for his answer, she continued. "We won't be in the same group."

Alim glanced down at the armor he wore, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Obviously. You have the safer job." He grinned. "You don't want to trade, do you? I bet you could do wonders for this armor..." He reached out and grabbed her hips possessively. "All those curves..."

"You would think you had enough last night," Morrigan replied, leaning into his hands just a touch. Alim wondered how her skin always seemed so warm, even through the thin scraps of leather and cloth she insisted were robes. On the bed he saw a baggy servants dress laid out, he assumed she was waiting to put it on until the very last moment. "I have something for you."

"Really?" Alim glanced around her, tugging her closer in the process. "It is bigger than a bread box?"

"I meant that I have a gift for you," the witch clarified, dancing just out of his fingers. "'Tis a ring." She pressed the small band into his hand. "Now, before you get any foolish notions, let me explain."

"Flemeth once gave me the ring because it allowed her to find me, no matter where I went, in case I was ever captured by hunters. I disabled its power as soon as I left the Wilds with Serena."

Alim nodded at her words, his eyes taking in the design of the ring. It appeared to subtlety shift in his hand, the tiny etched forms of birds becoming wolves and then the two footed steps of men.

"Recently, however, I thought to change it. Now, I will be able to find whoever wears it instead."

"And you want me to wear it?"

"'Tis not to track you," Morrigan said quickly. Her golden eyes were searching his expectantly, as she were concerned her meaning was not clear. "I believe you are... too important to risk. There are only three Grey Wardens in Ferelden, and should Serena or Alistair fall... a great burden would fall to you, Alim."

"If one of them fell, both of them would," Alim said quietly. "I think you know that as well as I do."

"I have advised Serena about how closely her and the templar intertwine their lives..." Morrigan shook her head, her dark hair fall in a thick curtain across one eye. "She is impossible to advise when it comes to Alistair."

"They're in love." Alim shrugged, slipping the ring on his little finger. "It isn't something to be pitied."

Morrigan snorted. "As you say. Regardless, if you were to get captured, it would be far easier to find you with that."

"Does it do anything else?"

"Flemeth used to say that 'twas a link between us, one that I presumed worked both ways. I never tested it, but I doubt she would have lied over such a thing." A dark brow arched up, and Alim found himself smiling. "So 'twould mean I am linked to you, as much as you to I."

"So I could find you, if need be?" Alim stepped closer to her.

"I... do not know... As I said, I never tested it. Perhaps." The witch pursed her lips, her eyes straying downwards. "I have no desire to see us part company so soon. Not unless we wish to, that is." She paused briefly. Alim wondered if she was testing him somehow. She seemed to enjoy pushing his buttons, gauging how he would react. "Do not read more into it than is there. You have supplied me with new spells... certainly this is not so very different, is it?"

"Oh, but you know how I like reading into things, Morrigan," Alim whispered, leaning in close. He pressed his lips to her forehead, even though she still wouldn't meet his eyes. "You don't have to be so guarded, you know. I'm not saying throw it all out there like Serena does, but..." He pressed another kiss to her temple, his hands resting lightly on her upper arms, holding her to him. "Feelings aren't necessarily something to be afraid of, my dark enchantress."

"Who said I have any feelings for you?"

"Not even any... warm fuzzy ones?" When she only frowned at him, he lifted her chin up, smiling gently. "Everything will be fine. I'm not wearing this uniform for giggles, you know. We'll slip in, we'll slip out. Very little danger involved."

"Just... wear the ring, Alim." She gave him a quick hug, wrapping her arms around his neck. She pressed a kiss to his lips then, and for a moment things were all quiet, and Alim felt as if it were the calm before a storm.

* * *

><p>They met Erlina just outside the gates of Howe's Denerim estate. The elven woman appeared just short of frazzled, barking orders at Alistair and Serena while throwing annoyed looks at Alim and Fergus.<p>

"You are not wearing the helm I provided!" Erlina was whispering fiercely at Serena, her large dark eyes narrowed fixedly on the brunette. "Surely someone will recognize you immed-"

"I have it right here," Serena growled, pulling the helm from her pack and tucking her long braid up in it. "Anora's handmaiden or not, I won't have you shouting at me, Erlina. You'll remember who you're speaking to, is that understood?"

"Y-yes, my lady," the elven woman muttered, dropping her eyes. Alistair was glad to see Serena stand up for herself. Anora's maid had been snapping impatiently at them all since they'd met up with her. "If you'll just follow me then..."

"For the hundredth time- his lordship isn't seeing anyone, you'll have to come back tomorrow!" They followed Erlina past the large group that had assembled in front of the estate, Leliana among them, in her servant's garb. Most of the people appeared to be simply milling about, but some had come angry.

"No! The Carpenter's Crafthall has had enough of Howe's conveniently busy schedule!" A burly man stepped forward then, shaking his first angrily at the messenger. "We will not be put off again!"

"Nor will the stonemasons!" another man shouted earnestly. "It's been a month since we've seen so much as a coin of Howe's for our work!"

"I love to hear he's busy making friends," Serena quipped, her voice somewhat muffled under the newly donned guardsman's helm.

Erlina glanced around and frowned, beckoning them forward quickly. "The servants' entrance is on the other side of the house. We must be very careful, Arl Howe is inside." Alistair saw the Cousland siblings both stiffen slightly, exchanging dark looks as they walked ahead of him.

A few servants stepped past, and he noticed Wynne's white head among them, bustling into another entrance, all keeping their heads low. So far, it appeared as if their plan to split up was working. Alistair and the others passed a group of guards stationed outside next, and when Alistair saluted them, two of the trio nodded back.

"I see at least some of you are capable of blending in," Erlina muttered under her breath. Alistair saw Serena turn her head slightly, and hoped for the elf's sake she learned to shut her mouth around Serena. "I can distract these guards, but you must move quickly, yes? My lady does not have much time."

"Why would you need to _distract_ the guards?" Fergus asked. "Why are we even _wearing_ these silly disguises then?"

"It is one thing to walk about the grounds, but they will be checking those coming inside. I will lure them into the courtyard, you all wait in the bushes." The elven woman shot them another frazzled look before running off to where the two guards stood.

"I think she ought to lure them into the bushes while we wait in the courtyard," Alistair said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, you must come! I saw something! By the fountain!" Erlina's words drifted back towards their group, where Alim had found them a suitable place to stand behind a nearby wall, outside of the prickly bushes the elven woman had suggested. "I think it was a darkspawn!"

"Darkspawn?" Serena muttered. "Is she _daft_?"

"Darkspawn?" the guard echoed, sounding equally doubtful.

"Please! They'll drag us all underground to be eaten!" Erlina pleaded. Alistair had to admit she sounded convincing in her fear, though perhaps she should have picked a different distraction. A darkspawn wandering about the arl of Denerim's estate in broad daylight... it was a little far-fetched. Though if it'd been true, the irony of it would have been delicious.

"Should we call for help?" questioned the other guard.

"Did you fall off a cart full of stupid? Call for help?" the first guard replied. Beside him, Serena groaned. "So they can see us act like scared little girls because of some knife-eared wench?" At _this_, Alim groaned. This guard wasn't making any sort of friends with them today.

"They will eat us all alive! Please! Get help!"

"She's really laying it on thick, isn't she?" Alim muttered. "I could have paralyzed them by now... blindfolded."

The second guard was still wavering, as if the darkspawn threat was a valid one. "If there is something out there, and we don't sound the alarm, we'll look worse than scared. I heard they've been raiding in the south."

"Andraste's holy knickers!" cursed the guard. "Fine! We'll check the courtyard, if it'll keep you from wetting yourself. But there's nothing there!"

"Thank you! Thank you!" Erlina cried in her heavily accented tones. "It was over here, oh my. Quickly!" With a strange little skip, she hurried off in the opposite direction as Serena stepped out from behind the wall.

"Alright, well... here goes... everything."

* * *

><p>They met Erlina again twenty minutes later, in a side foyer that led to the massive kitchens. The estate was bustling with activity, servants moving in and out, delicious smells wafting out of the kitchens into the hallways beyond.<p>

"Ah, it took me forever to lose those two! You must be careful now. The servants..." She nodded her head to a small group of servants passing by, one of them a blonde elven man handling a large mabari. "They will not look too closely at anyone in uniform. All guards are alike to a cook, no? But you should not draw attention to yourselves." At the last part, she looked pointedly at Serena, almost baiting her.

"Most of the guards are new," the maid continued when it became obvious Serena wouldn't respond. "They will not know you for a stranger at a glance. It is best you keep your distance from all of them and try to blend in."

"And where is Anora?" Serena asked, her voice just on this side of exasperated.

"In a guest room, off the main hall." Erlina crossed herself quickly. "Andraste guide us." Frowning, she moved quickly away down another hallway, blending in with another group of elven servants.

"So... what was that?"

"What was what?" Serena asked innocently.

Alistair scoffed. "You, Erlina. What _was_ that?"

"I don't care for her," the brunette replied brusquely. At Alistair's look, she rolled her eyes, relenting to him. "If I had to guess, I would assume our dear queen has poisoned her against me."

"Isn't that a bit paranoid, Sister?" Fergus said gently.

This time it was Serena's turn to throw him a look. "You remember Anora, surely."

"Yes..." The bearded man sighed. "How she used to_ flirt_, sweet Maker, you'd think she wasn't promised to Cailan from birth. To this day, I think she still holds a grudge because I supposedly spurned her and took Oriana as a wife. What a peach."

"Consummate bitch," Serena muttered in agreement. She pulled a small copy of a map, copied from her journal it looked like, from her pocket. "Let's just get this done with."

* * *

><p>Traveling through the estate was a slow process. Following Erlina's orders, the four of them tried to avoid the soldiers, though the main hall appeared to be situated in such a way that they needed to circle the entire estate to enter it. Their disguises appeared to be doing their job, however as the guards and servants alike seemed to leave them be.<p>

"It's bad luck living in a house where the whole family got killed. I saw Howe ought to level the thing and build a new one."

"He'd have to knock down every place he owns, then," replied a second soldier. Alistair heard Fergus snigger under his helm as they passed by. It would appear even Howe's newest guardsmen were weary of the man and his bloody reputation.

"I hope it's not mutton again," another man complained. "Three nights in a row now..."

"For all we know, it's not mutton. Howe's too cheap to buy it. Cook's probably roasting the elves that broke in here."

The guard made a gagging sound as he passed, carrying his helm under his arm. "You realize that doesn't help, right? Ugh."

"Sere-" Alim's voice cut out as he saddled up to Serena. "Ser? Did you hear that?"

"I did. Your friends, I'm assuming?"

Alim nodded. "I have to check."

"Let's find Anora first, then we'll break out the prisoners," Serena whispered. Her eyes closed briefly. "Zevran is nearby, I think. I can sense Peanut. There's other mabari, too. He must be nearing the kennels."

"That's just off to the right of the main hall, Seren-"

"Ser will do," Serena replied quickly, cutting Alistair off. "Let's head that way, then we'll double back for the lower levels."

They wouldn't have known the guest rooms from any of the other doors if not for Erlina standing conspicuously outside, leaning against the wall beside a strange glowing door.

"Magic," Alim said unnecessarily. "It can never been easy, can it?"

"Welcome to my entire life, Alim," Serena murmured.

"The Grey Warden's are here, my lady."

"Thank the Maker!" Anora's muffled voice carried through the door, despite it's magic seal. She sounded in good spirits, if not a bit exasperated. "I would greet you properly, but I'm afraid we've had... a small setback."

"The seal, you mean?"

"Indeed." There was a long sigh. "My 'host' was not content with leaving me under heavy guard. He's sealed the door by magic."

Serena rolled her eyes. Turning to her fellow 'guardsmen' she asked "Can you do anything Alistair? Alim? Anything to dispel it's effects?"

"You'll have to find the mage who cast the spell," Anora interrupted. "He'll most likely be at Howe's side."

"Any ideas where that might be, my lady?" The last two words were exaggerated, though Alistair thought perhaps only he and Fergus would be the only ones who could really tell.

"Serena? Is that you? _You're_ the Grey Warden?"

"Yes, I am. We're looking rather obvious standing about in this hallway currently, however, so..."

"Right, right. Of course." Anora's voice pitched slightly higher before she continued. "I... Howe should be in his rooms, at the end of the hall on the... left. But there is also an entrance, to the dungeons there. You can enter through-"

"His study," Serena supplied.

"Correct. Ah, thank you, Serena. My... prayers go with you."

"I'm sure," muttered the brunette, turning away.

Howe's study was an offshoot of his master rooms, both of which were decidedly empty upon first inspection.

"You know, we'll probably never have another chance to loot the arl of Denerim," Alistair said quietly, heading over to the large desk. Serena moved over to a enormous chest, pulling a pin from her pocket to pick the lock. With a soft click, it opened on the first try, and she raided the contents quickly.

"Oh, dear."

"Find something?" Alistair called. Serena waved him over urgently, pushing some documents into his hands.

"These have the seal on them, the Grey Warden seal," she whispered. "Alim, come here. You should see these, too." She showed him the documents, pointing out the griffon pressed to the old parchment with wax.

"These are amazing." Alim ran his long fingers over the aging parchment, and Serena knew he was appreciating them as much as any spellbook from the Tower. "Are they in code?"

"Must be," Alistair whispered. "But I wouldn't be surprised if these tell us how to do the Joining."

"So I could become a... a real..." Alim grinned. "This makes the whole setback almost worth it, huh?"

"Very worth it," Serena confirmed.

"And this way leads to the dungeons, I gather," Fergus said solemnly, nodding his head down the now open doorway before them. The comfortable stone and wood carved walls quickly gave way to a crudely constructed tunnel, leading down.

Serena felt her stomach tie in knots as they descended the long passageway, concerned that they would finally face Rendon Howe at last. The door needed to be picked, a bad sign, and Serena instructed the others to pull their weapons as she worked. Alim was muttering a chant under his breath as the door swung open.

"What? Who goes there?" A guard was standing stationed in front of a cell, his body on alert. "I'm the only one meant to be down here, unless you lot are on patrol... Wait a sec-"

There was a sickening crack as a thick muscular arm shot out of the cell, grabbing the man's face and snapping the neck in one swift movement. The guard collapsed on the floor and Serena backed away as he was dragged into the cell by his feet.

Alistair gulped, his long sword out and glowing just slightly. "We have the _worst_ timing. Just.. the worst."


	70. Chapter 70

**Author's Note:** Apologies on getting this chapter out a little late (a lot late.) It was rather difficult to write, and fit in all the parts I wanted to without choking the story too badly. In other news, I'll be out of town next week for the holiday, so updates will resume the 28th of November. Special thanks to everyone taking the time to review and follow the story, especially KnightofHolyLight and ZoraAngel, who always have the most amazing feedback.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter <span>70 – _Justice and Vengeance_

"I thank you for creating such distraction, stranger. I have been waiting days for the opportunity." A scruffy looking dark haired man stumbled out of the cell, glad in the dead guardsman's uniform. Serena took another step back, feeling Alistair's hand at her back. "Do you think you could- Alistair? Is that you?"

"Who...? Wait. I _do_ know you. You were at my Joining." Alistair stepped forward then, pulling Serena gently beside. "He's one of us. A Warden from Orlais." He looked to the man, now Warden, again. "Jader, right? Or was it Montsimmard? I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't remember your name."

"I'm Riordan," the man replied with a bow. "Senior Warden of Jader, but born and bred in Highever, and glad to be home."

"So you were captured, I assume?" Serena asked, removing her helm and shaking out her braid. Sweat had beaded up inside it, plastering her bangs to her forehead. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? I'm Serena Cousland. This is my brother Fergus, and Warden recruit Alim Surana."

"A pleasure to meet you all. I did not dare to hope that it would be fellow Wardens who would rescue me." Riordan frowned, shaking his head sadly. "I was captured with an offer of hospitality and a poisoned chalice. I was... fool enough to think Loghain didn't yet know who I was."

"Oh, Loghain can smell an Orlesian from a full day's ride away, I'm sure," Alistair joked lamely.

"Yes, he had been by only once. Most of my... dealings... have been with Howe. I was sent when we received no word from King Cailan as to the outcome at Ostagar. The king had invited all the Wardens of Orlais and their support troops to join him, then... nothing."

"So there's other Wardens in Ferelden now?" Serena asked excitedly. A flurry of excitement fluttered in her chest, like a bird's wings, as the prospect of more Wardens joining their cause.

"We had two hundred Wardens and two dozen divisions of cavalry. The first we heard of Loghain's edict was when everyone was turned back at the border. That was when the rumor reached us that Wardens were being blamed for the massacre." Riordan glanced from Serena to Alistair, tight-lipped, as if he couldn't imagine the sorts of abuse they'd been put through. "We finally decided it was safest to send someone alone, to learn how best to fight the Blight and this regime simultaneously. As a native Fereldan, I volunteered to make the crossing."

"Is there a way to get word to them? We are working to bring Loghain down through the Landsmeet, so we can march against the archdemon with the full force of Ferelden's army." Serena exchanged worried glances with Alistair. "We've seen it, Riordan. The archdemon. It was leading the darkspawn to the surface, in the Deep Roads."

"We saw it when we went to secure the dwarven treaty," Alistair added.

Riordan's blue eyes opened slightly wider, but otherwise, he stayed relatively calm for someone who knew exactly what an archdemon actually entailed. "This is much more dire than we previously thought. I could get word to the others, but the Wardens won't risk their strength fighting Ferelden's civil war. If they spend themselves against Loghain, then there is truly no hope."

"They recall accounts of the first Blight, how many cities fell. If Ferelden is too foolish to save itself, at least we'll be ready when the archdemon leads its forces further." He raised a dark eyebrow. "I had heard you have been raising an army yourself. There is talk... the Dalish, the Circle of Magi... and you confirmed the dwarves of Orzammar yourselves. But perhaps if the edict can be lifted... I will send a message as soon as we are gone from this place."

"Are these missives yours, ser?" Alim asked suddenly. He was holding the Grey Warden coded papers, and they saw the Senior Warden's eyes widen again.

"Yes! These are my records... the names of the dead I could recognize at Ostagar and what I could find of... of Duncan's own recruitment records." He cradled the small stack of papers in his hands, tucking them in his space between his chest and breastplate carefully. "There are copies of the Joining ritual I rescued from our Denerim vault. Those should never be seen by any outside eyes, but I trust their encryption."

"Speaking of the Joining..." Alistair began, nudging Serena lightly.

"Oh yes, Alim is a recruit. If the other Wardens aren't... able to make it... We were hoping you could help us perform the Joining for him. We were thinking, well, at least there'll be four of us then, right?"

"For the Joining to work, the recruit needs not only fresh darkspawn blood, but a drop of blood preserved from an archdemon. Ferelden's supply should have been in the vault, but it was gone. I can only imagine someone took it out and Loghain either confiscated or destroyed it."

"We need to get it back then," Serena replied. "First things first, though. Take my helm, and head up this passageway. You can slip out easily enough if Howe is... actually, do you know where Howe is?"

Riordan frowned, a dark look passing over his features. Serena wondered what Howe had done to him, in an attempt to get at Grey Warden secrets for Loghain. "I saw him go into the dungeons. He may still be there."

"Torturing elves, I bet," Alim said darkly.

"Or nobles," Fergus added.

"We've been staying with Arl Eamon, at his estate near the Market District, Riordan," Alistair piped up. "If you need a place to stay, I'm sure he'd make you welcome." Alistair exchanged another look with Serena. "If you could maybe update him on our progress... Let him know we're not dead..."

"What is you are trying to do here, if I may ask?"

"Queen Anora is being held captive, along with... many others. We're... trying to rescue them."

"Well, I shall not hold you back further. I will see you at Arl Eamon's, then. Good luck, my brothers and sister." Pulling the helm over his head, he waved briefly before heading back up the passageway to the estate proper.

"He snapped that man's neck. That was... wow." Alim ran a hand through his dark mane of hair before replaced his own helmet. "Do they _teach_ you how to do that or... is he just...?"

"Uh, I think that was just a Riordan special," Serena murmured, leading them further into the dungeons. A trickle of fresh blood dropped from a stretching rack nearby. More puddles of dried blood dotted the floors, the smell of copper was making Serena sick to her stomach.

The dungeons dropped another level they found, as most of the cells near Riordan were empty. It appeared as if Howe, or his guards, had moved all the other prisoners downstairs. Either for safety, or more seclusion during torture, Serena couldn't be sure.

"Who goes?" a guard barked at them.

Without her helm, it seemed pointless to pretend. "Warden Commander Serena Cousland," Serena replied angrily, staring the man down, her hands on her silverite daggers at her belt. She felt Alistair stand at her right, his sword still at the ready, glowing gently blue in the darkened dungeons. Fergus was at her other side, his own sword out.

"Anybody who tries to come in here without Howe's say so, we get to do what we like with 'em." He turned his head slightly as four men revealed themselves from the shadows beyond, swords already drawn. "I think we finally got a bit of entertainment here, lads!"

Serena struck quickly, sliding her dagger across the guards' throat and dropping him at the ground before he even had a chance to register her. She brandished the bloody blade in front of the other men as a clear warning. "Like a hot knife through butter," she growled. "I highly suggest you walk away. Now."

"Bitch! You bitch!" Another guard came at her, catching his long sword between her two crossed daggers. "We'll sodding murder you, Cousland bitch!"

"Great vocabulary you got there, mate," Fergus called, bringing his own sword around to stab deep into the man's side. Kicking him back to the ground, the two siblings stood back to back as they whipped through the rest of the men in the room. Serena saw Alistair and Alim slip past and head around the corner, where she could hear the sounds of more shuffling, presumably taking down even more guardsmen.

"Clear them out," Serena shouted, bringing her dagger down on another guard. Catching up to the others, they moved together into another room, this one filled with guards and a few mabari. Pushing out with her senses, Serena commanded the dogs to return to their kennels, leaving the guards nearly unarmed.

One of the dogs refused to obey, however, instead it barreled through the pack of guards, knocking most to the ground as it tried to reach Serena. With an ear-splitting howl, the mabari shattered the chaos with its call as Serena and the others made short work of the fallen men.

When the men had been dispatched, Serena turned to the dogs, releasing them from her hold. Their rage dissipated, most stayed in their kennel while the one who'd broken free stepped forward, circling around Serena.

"But where is Zevran?" Serena asked aloud.

"I am here, my friends," the assassin replied, leaning in the doorway, one of his long daggers was covered in blood. His normal devil-may-care attitude was foregone here; his face set in hard lines. "I have found where they are housing the other prisoners."

* * *

><p>The room was choked with the stench of decomposition. Serena pursed her lips and tried to focus on her surroundings, but that was almost worse. Bodies, some burned, others just slowly decaying, hung from the rafters, littered the floor in piles... it was a literal torture and dismemberment chamber they were making their way through.<p>

"Is there anybody out there?" a strangled voice choked out. "Please, Maker, _please_ help me... Don't leave me here... Get me... _get me out of here!_"

A man was tied to a stretching rack in the center of the next room. He looked exhausted from screaming, and Serena immediately went to him, cutting the ties at his ankles and wrists. Deep welts circled his wrists where the ropes had gouged into his skin, and he was covered in bruises in varying stages of healing.

"Was this supposed to be a lesson?" The blonde man rolled to his side, trying to find his feet to stand. He had a throaty sounding voice, and Serena found herself wondering if perhaps he'd been choked. "I... did my father... did he think it was funny to leave me for so long before sending you?"

"Here, let me wrap your side..." Serena pulled some fresh bandages and a health poultice of Morrigan's from her pack as Alim moved to help her bind his wound with a touch of magic. "That should ease some of the swelling. You must be Bann Sighard's son."

"I doubt I'll ever be able to raise my arms again..." the man lamented quietly. "I... I owe you my life... and now that I look, I see you bear no livery from father. To whom should I direct my gratitude? Wait... wait, I know you, don't I?"

"I'm Serena Cousland."

"Ah, yes, I believe we met once at a party... I'm... Oswyn, if you remember..." He winced again, his eyes closing tightly in pain and Serena felt Alim touch him with another burst of healing magic. She wished Wynne were around, she could set his wounds straight enough. "So... why did you come... if my father didn't send you?"

"We're here to find you, and some other prisoners Howe is holding," Serena replied. "This is Alistair, the rightful king of Ferelden."

"Maric's bas- I see, I see... Then I need not question why you're here further," Oswyn murmured. "Your claim to the throne is the greatest threat to Loghain's regime, but know that you have my heartfelt gratitude and, I assume, the gratitude of the entire Dragon's Peak Bannorn."

"If my father sent no one after me, I can only assume that he does not yet know the true colors of the snakes he has allied with... but if you talk to him, I'm certain he would offer you any reward you might ask."

"Dragon's Peak's alliegance in the Landsmeet would be enough, my lord," Serena said with a small curtsy.

"Oh, don't-" Oswyn rasped, holding out a hand as Alistair and Zevran moved to help him. "I... I owe you a great debt this day... all of you. You said there's to be a Landsmeet, though? Howe said the Arl of Redcliffe was dead, and the Landsmeet called off... I swear... if there be any forum to speak out against Loghain, my father will be there."

"I must try to get to him. I... I cannot see the last of this place too soon." The pleading note in his voice was unmistakable, and Serena felt her heart break that they couldn't have reached him sooner. The damage the rack had done... surely some of it would be permanent.

"I can get him to Wynne," Zevran said, "And meet you all back here. We've devised a way to smuggle people out of the dungeons through that kitchen entrance, Leliana is waiting." With a swift nod, he led Oswyn away through the passage.

* * *

><p>The adjoining rooms held few guards, all which were easily dispatched. Looting the keys from the guards, they entered a corridor of cells, though only a few actually held prisoners. The first held a bent man, babbling incoherently about a battle in which he'd participated.<p>

"They said to retreat... the horn sounded... we turned... screams..." The man shook, wrapping his arms around himself. "We rode and they screamed... They said it was only darkspawn, but we ate them too. They died and we left them. In the swamp. The witch. The witch!"

"I don't think you'll get anything more out of him," Alistair whispered. Turning to the man, he spoke louder. "Ser, you can... you can go. Go somewhere safe, if you can. The chantry, perhaps."

"Safe, safe... is there a safe? Perhaps next door..." Without another word, the man stumbled away down the passage where Zevran had headed with the tortured noble, muttering inanely to himself.

The next held a templar, deep in lyrium withdrawal, according to Alistair, who refused to leave his cell at all. Pressing a ring into their hand, he pleaded that they return to his sister, "Bann Alfie". Afterwards, he completely shut down, backing into his cell and ducking his head. Serena kneeled down and murmured a small prayer for him, hoping it eased some of his pain.

"Hello? Hello? Who's there?" Another muted voice from down the passage echoed strangely back to them. Serena exchanged worried looks with Alistair. They'd already seen so many horrible things, things Howe and Loghain had done to these people... she wasn't sure if she could take seeing more.

"Soris?" Alim ran towards another cell around the corner, Serena right on his tail as they stopped in front of two cells. Serena could feel his magic pulsing, a weak freezing spell. He was attempting to open the door by breaking the lock with ice. "Soris! Kallian! Oh, I didn't know if you'd-"

"Alim? Is that you? How did you-" A pale red haired dwarf stood up weakly from the ground, looking gaunt from lack of food. A long gash cut across the skin just under his right eye. "What month is it? I feel like I've spent half my life down here..."

In the next cell a blonde elven woman was laying down, curled in a tight ball. Fresh bruises colored the patches of skin that were visible beyond the tattered rags of clothing she wore. Serena picked the lock quickly as Alistair and Fergus moved to help the woman to her feet.

"Were... are there more of you?" Serena asked quietly of the red-haired dwarf.

"Kallian and I are... here," Soris said lamely. "Nelaros..."

"My husband is dead! They paraded his head in front of me as proof!" the blonde elf cried suddenly, shaking Alistair and Fergus off. "Don't touch me, shemlen, unless you want those hands to become detachable."

"Are there any others?" Serena asked again. She didn't want to press the issue, especially since both of the elves appeared beaten to near death, but she had to know if there were other people in need of their assistance.

"What about Valora? Shianni?" Alim was checking the other cells, nearly frantic.

"Shianni got out, we think... they haven't... We don't know about the others. We don't know if they're still alive."

"Where's Vaughan?" Kallian said suddenly. She seemed to have regained her vigor for the moment, as her blue blue eyes burned with something cold, something Serena immediately recognized. Hatred. Vengeance.

"Vaughan...?"

"That bastard son of Urien's!" Kallian burst out. "Vaughan!" She shook a bit then, almost uncontrollably, and Serena realized the rags she wore were the tattered remains of a wedding dress. She felt fury bubble up in her own gut as she remembered what Alim had told her.

"_There __was __some __celebration, __a __wedding __I __think, __I'd __never __seen __a __wedding, __they __don't __allow __them __in __the __Circle, __so __I __thought __I'd __take __a __peek... __Then __these __men __storm __the __Alienage... __someone __said __it __was __the __Arl __of __Denerim's __son, __but __I __don't __know __about __that. __I'd __never __seem __'em __before... __Anyway, __they __grab __a __bunch __of __the __women __and __run __for __it!_"

Putting two and two together, Serena grabbed the elven woman's hand, pressing one of her daggers into it as she locked eyes with her.

"Come with me. We'll find him."

* * *

><p>"You would hang, you know," Kallian whispered. "If they found out you passed a knife-ear a blade." She raised a blonde eyebrow. "Especially with the intent to do harm to shem- humans."<p>

"Don't say that," Serena snapped. "You're not a bloody knife-ear. You're a _woman_; a woman who has been terribly wronged. And I'd hang for a lot worse than giving you a blade, regardless." She snuck a look around the corner, hearing the chatter of more guards. "How good are you with that, by the way?"

"Good enough to do some damage," the elf replied. "How many are there?"

"I counted five."

"Vaughn must be around here somewhere."

Serena shook her head. "Not if Howe's in control. I wouldn't be surprised if he's not locked up somewhere here, too, being the rightful heir to the arling and all."

"Locked up or not, I'm going to cut him into pieces so small, his own mother wouldn't recognize him." And without another word she pushed forward around the corner, surprising the men sitting there playing cards, of all things. Serena quickly followed, tossing Duncan's dagger into the throat of the first guard as Kallian engaged two of the guards at once, gutting one swiftly as she landed a kick into the other's chest, knocking him onto his back.

Shifting her movements to complement Kallian's, Serena kicked another guard out of the way and stabbed, keeping her back to the elven woman's. They tore through the room in a fury, Kallian's angry energy was rolling off her in waves, and her rage at being pent up and abused for months on end was being unleashed at last. When every guard had fallen, the elf looked around, as if still spoiling for another fight.

It was in the next passage they found more cells, though only one was occupied. The blonde stopped in front of it, the dagger held tight in the palm of her hand. Serena could see a reddish haired man, maybe in his mid-twenties, hunching in one of the corners of the cell. His hair was greasy and unwashed, but he didn't appear abused as the other prisoners did. Serena found it strange Howe would torture one noble's son, but not another. Perhaps he admired Vaughan's sadistic streak.

"There you are, lovely," Kallian cooed viciously to the man, whose head snapped up immediately at the sound of her voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Well, well, if it isn't my knife-eared slut. Back for round two?" Vaughan stood up, leaning towards the elven woman menacingly. "I sure loved the sound of your screams."

"I never screamed for you," the blonde hissed, slipping her hand through the bars and grabbing Vaughan by the collar. With a swift tug, she pulled him forward roughly until he banged his head into the metal.

"I'll... I'll gut you... knife-eared... _bitch_..." Vaughan growled as Kallian brutally slammed him into the bars again.

"What a fantastic idea!" Kallian called harshly. Smiling cruelly, she shoved the borrowed dagger deep in the man's throat, twisting the blade with extra delight. Blood gushed from the wound as Vaughan dropped to the ground in a heap, clutching at his ruined neck. His mouth opened and shut uselessly, and Serena was shocked to see him still try to hurl curses at the elven woman, as if that were more important than trying to breath. The more he tried to speak, the worse the blood flowed until his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell back dead with a thump.

There was a long pause where the blonde woman simply stood there, staring down at the corpse of her former abuser with cold blue eyes. Then there was a loud snort and the blonde broke into crazed laughter.

"Are you alright?" Serena asked quietly.

The giggling subsided after a few minutes, turning into a strangled sort of sob. Kallian's shoulder fell forward as she hunched into herself once again, and Serena found herself wishing she had the words to console the obviously grieving woman.

"I thought... I thought I would feel... _better_," Kallian choked out at last. "I thought... he... he did things..." A tear slipped down her cheek and she angrily wiped it away, as if ashamed. "He raped Shianni... he beat me. I... I had to do something." She paused, wiping another tear away. "Revenge."

"Howe murdered my whole family. Only my brother and I survived." Serena moved then, wrapping her arms around the slighter woman. She was surprised with the elf didn't resist, and instead hugged her back, clinging tightly to Serena as her misery took hold. "Sometimes justice and vengeance... they can... taste the same."


	71. Chapter 71

**Author's Note**: After a rather long hiatus but much needed break, _Tricking the Past_ is back! Chapters resume Monday and Thursday. Thanks everyone for the continuing support and feedback- you keep me writing!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter <span>71 - _Betrayed, But Not Surprised_

After Kallian's breakdown, they rejoined the others in one of the passageways, where Alim and a returned Zevran were helping a few prisoners. Binding their wounds and prepping them for exiting the dungeons, Serena supposed, when she noticed Morrigan was among them. The witch gave her a brief nod before returning her attention to Kallian, who had a health poultice pressed to her badly bruised arm.

"They're going to help Soris and the others escape while we... take care of Howe and his pet mage." Alistair slipped closer, his mouth nearly brushing her ear. "Fergus went ahead, to scout the rest of the dungeon."

"And you let him _go_? _Alone_? What if... what if he finds Howe?" Serena frowned, pulling Alistair with her. "We have to find him. Now." As an afterthought, she called over her shoulder, "Get them out, and we'll meet whoever is left back at Anora's guest room. Go! Go now." She saw Alim and the others scramble up, pulling the two elves and a few other prisoners up between them.

"Wynne is near the kitchens," Zevran said quickly, his amber eyes focused on Serena. "As soon as we get them to her and Leliana, I am coming back to you. Had I known your brother would..."

"Yes, I didn't even think he might try to find Howe himself. I should have-" Serena cursed, her mind frantic with worry. "It doesn't matter now, I just have to find him. Take care, all of you. I'll see you upstairs."

* * *

><p>It was the last door on the right that they found Fergus. He was propped against the wall awkwardly, his body slumped nearly to the floor. He appeared knocked out and Serena felt her chest tighten painfully as she swooped down to him, fear gripping her with its icy hands.<p>

"Be okay... be okay... sweet Maker, please be okay..." Serena pressed her hand to his neck, searching for a pulse. Thankfully, it was there, though weak. "You stupid, stupid man, just wandering off like that..."

"Well, look here, boys. Bryce Cousland's little spitfire. All grown up and still playing the man."

Serena whipped around, her eyes burning. She knew that voice. "Rendon Howe." She pulled her dagger, signaling Alistair to protect her brother behind her. It was only the two of them, and her brother was what mattered. "The man, the myth... _the __monster_."

Howe's smile was as slimy as it was cruel. "It would appear that you _have_ made something of yourself, after all. Your father would be proud." His lip curled, revealing yellowed teeth. "I, on the other hand, want you dead more than ever."

"Well, here I am," Serena mocked, hoping her voice didn't betray her fear. Both her daggers were out now, and she saw Howe's dark eyes drift down to them as he sneered. "Or shall I turn around so you can stab me in the back like my father?"

"He was a traitor to me and a coward to his nation! Trips to Orlais... gifts from old enemies; all while I sank in obscurity..." Howe ran a hand through his graying hair before he pulled a short sword from the sheath at his back. "Your family squandered the glory that was rightfully _mine_. How suitable that their deaths should raise me to the ear of a king."

He brandished the sword at her then, his eyes were two angry little slits in his face. The sword jabbed at her with every other word he spoke, even though she was half a room away. "If you think you can take this from me, that I will _allow_ it, you are very... much... mistaken!"

Before Serena realized it, they were running at each other from across the room, fueled by rage, both of them with their weapons drawn. She distantly heard Alistair's voice, shouting nonsense, the sound of metal on metal as she clashed with one of Howe's guardsmen who foolishly thought to protect his master.

Quickly parrying his blow, she stabbed him deep in the gut with her second dagger before kicking him away, intent on reaching Howe. Her blood boiled with the audacity of his words, that her family had _ever_ squandered _anything_... her father had been a good man who always put duty first, to his family, to his people, to the _country_... She wouldn't have been a Warden otherwise!

She reached Howe in what felt like seconds, her daggers meeting his blade viciously. He was quick for an old man; perhaps he was likewise aided by his own fury. She sensed Peanut's unique signature nearby, and within seconds the hound was beside her, barreling into any guardsmen stupid enough to try to get in their path. The dungeon filled with shrieks and screams as more people entered the fray; a confusion of voices, some Serena recognized, melded together.

Zevran was nearby, cursing in Antivan, slicing his way through the melee towards her from across the chamber. Morrigan was there too, and Alim; their spells shooting out in every direction, disabling anyone who dared come near Fergus or the others.

_Fergus! _

It was barely a thought before Howe was there, right in front of her. His blade, already covered in someone's blood, was swiftly arching towards her and she parried it, though just barely. He was remarkably strong, relying heavily on two heavy twin blades instead of Serena's lighter, quicker movements. It went back and forth for what seemed like too many precious seconds before he slipped under her defenses, knocking one of her daggers askew.

"Your parent's died on their _knees_," Howe growled, using this opening to grab at Serena's neck. His hand was like iron on her throat, and she gaped, clawing at it uselessly with her free hand while the other held onto her precious silverite dagger with all her strength. "Your brother's corpse rots in Ostagar; and his brat was burned on a scrap heap, along with his Antivan whore of a wife. And what's left? A fool husk of a daughter, likely to end her days under a rock in the blighted Deep Roads." His hand tightened on Serena's neck and she felt her air cut off completely as she tried to shift her weight, desperate to shake the man off and grab some air.

Howe leaned in, his face practically a snarl, his breath hot and fetid in Serena's face. "Even the Wardens are gone. You are the last of _nothing_. This is pointless. You've _lost_."

"Doesn't... matter..." Serena gasped. "You... forget-"

"What was that, girl?" Howe spat in her face and she cringed, unable to do anything but gasp for air. "No snappy retort this time?"

"You forget I have-" The words were a whispered mumble, barely coherant, and Howe leaned in further in order to hear, practically nose-to-nose with her now.

"Say it again," he commanded, shaking her like a rag doll. Serena couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't-

"She said 'Y_ou forget I have people who love me_.'" Alistair's clear voice, now steeped in anger, rang out from behind the arl. A limping but furious Fergus was beside him, his sword already drawn.

"Unhand my sister, you murderer."

A look like lightning passed between the two men as Howe recognized he had missed a Cousland, but it was only a moment, and then Fergus was plunging his sword in Howe's side, so deep it appeared to nearly disappear within the gray-haired man.

Serena dropped to the ground, practically collapsed, her dagger still held tightly in her hand somehow. Her face slipped from purples to deep reds as she sucked in grateful lungfuls of air. Her head was still swimming, but she was gaining footing. Backing against the wall, she glanced up at the cringing, injured form of Howe as her brother and Alistair towered over him.

"It would appear as if my corpse has risen from the grave to exact its revenge on you, Howe." Fergus' words were puncuated with a cry from the crippled arl as Fergus twisted the blade. "For my wife, who was taken from me too soon... by _you_." Another twist, another scream. Howe was practically on his knees now. "For my son, who will never grow up to be a man... because of _you_."

"For our parents, who protected us," Serena cried, plunging her own dagger into the man. Her voice was hoarse from being choked, but she couldn't stop, not now that they had him. "Who taught us _honor_, and to never cower before traitorous scum like _you_."

"Maker... spit on you... both! Your family..." Howe spluttered, blood trinkling out the side of his mouth. "I... deserved... more."

With a final gasp, he slumped back to the ground, and Serena plunged Duncan's dagger deep in his chest. "If I thought you had a heart-" she whispered, pressing it deep until his blood flowed out over her hands. "I'd rip it out and feed it to my hound." She ignored the tears that slipped down her nose, mingling with the blood and gore on the dead man's breastplate.

A fine tremor set in her arm as she released the hilt, the tears coming fiercely now, hot and wet and salty. Then strong arms were pulling her back up, holding her firmly, keeping her safe as they always had. _Alistair_. His smell; sweat and pine and something else, something musky and uniquely _him_, reached her nose and she almost sighed.

"The mage is dead, Zevran got him." He guided her to the doorway where she could see the others were waiting. "They got all the prisoners out. Leliana and Wynne took them to Eamon's." She felt Fergus' hand at her back, silent but soothing, letting her know she wasn't alone in her grief.

"We should grab Anora and go. This place is crawling with guards," Alim said, his dark eyes flipping around the dungeon quickly. Serena took one last look at the carnage, at the man who'd destroyed her childhood home, who had destroyed her brother's family and felt a small lightness in her chest, relief mixing with retribution until the two were almost the same. Turning away, she grabbed Alistair's hand and followed the others out.

* * *

><p>They found Anora quickly enough, despite the enormity of the estate. The magical seal that previously glowed bright and blue no longer sealed the door shut with its spellmaster dead. Erlina was pacing nearby, her agitation practically a perfume. A stack of linens folded in her hands, presumably so she didn't stand out too much.<p>

"What took so long?" The elven woman eyed them warily, as if they were up to something. Serena resisted the urge to shove her dagger into Erlina's throat. After everything they'd been through, of course the pedantic maid would find something to quarrel about. "It has been over an hour... the guards are becoming restless. Asking questions." She frowned at them, eyes narrowed. "You are covered in blood!"

"Why don't you shout it from the rooftops, my dear?" Zevran hissed angrily. "I am certain there are guardsmen who did not hear you yet."

"You didn't exactly ask us to pick the queen a bouquet of flowers, you know," Serena added, her voice haughty. The elf brought out the absolute worst in her, it seemed. Turning to the door, she rapped quickly. "M'lady, if you're ready, we should leave. Now."

The large wooden door creaked open and a soldier stood facing Serena.

"My thanks," Anora said shortly, her voice echoing strangely from inside the helm.

"Aren't you a little short for a guard?"

"Ha ha," Anora replied. "Very funny. I did this for you, I'll have you know." Her voice still carried it's distinct coolness, despite the disguise. "It wouldn't do to announce my presence to the entire castle. _Especially_ the guard."

"And why not? Half of them are dead, anyway." Serena half-shrugged. Her arm felt tight, probably a pulled muscle from the exertion with Howe downstairs. She neck and shoulders burned, too, and she knew she would be hurting in the morning. "The rest are simple men. Shouldn't they be made aware of their treasonous actions?"

Anora flipped up the visor to her helm and sighed, obviously annoyed. "Must we discuss this now, Serena?"

"Yes, we must."

Another sigh, accompanied this time by Anora's bright blue eyes rolling to the ceiling. "If Howe's people find me, I'll be killed. And my people will insist on escorting me back to the palace, where my father... may also have me killed." She spoke slowly, as if explaining to a child.

Zevran snorted, murmuring an Antivan curse Serena knew was the equivelent of what came out of a horse's backside.

"We need to secure my lady," Erlina pleaded, her eyes flipping from Serena to Anora and back again. The tension between the two women was palpalable, and it was obvious Anora needed Serena and her fellows much more than they needed the queen. "She is most important."

"That's debatable," Serena snapped back at Erlina, thinking of Alistair. "She won't be stopping the Blight on her own, I imagine." The elf looked as if she were willing to protest the many virtues of the queen again when Serena held up a hand to silence the elf. "Enough. We're going." She turned to Anora. "We'll talk when we get back to Eamon's."

It wasn't a request, and Anora knew it. Frowning slightly, she nodded, dropping the visor on her helm again to hide her face. Serena wished she could commanded Peanut to relieve himself at her feet.

They moved quickly then through the estate; Serena directing Zevran and Peanut ahead to scout the passageways for the rest of them. The hallways were strangely quiet, as if suddenly all the guards had found a very interesting card game to belong to.

It was through the next door they found where all the guards had been hiding.

"Warden! In the name of the regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms!" It was Cauthrien, in all her shrewish glory. Her dark eyes flicked to Serena's blue, and a small half-smile twisted her plain features. "Surrender, and you may be shown mercy."

"Zevran, get Fergus and Alistair away," Serena murmured under her breath in Antivan, knowing her brother and the assassin would understand. "They matter most." She heard the blonde assassin curse, but knew he would follow her command. To Cauthrien, she spoke clearly, and in the King's Tongue.

"I'm here to free Anora," Serena called. "She was being held against her will by Howe." She allowed herself a small, ironic smile. "I'm sure you knew that already, though?"

"Enough with your lies, Warden!" Cauthrien shouted, clearly shaken by Serena's words of condemnation. "If the queen is here, let her speak for herself! Or have you magically spirited her away? Turned her into a mouse, perhaps? How convenient is it that you invoke her name, but are unable to have her here to support your flimsy lies!"

"Oh, Cauthrien, thank the Maker you're here!" Anora bumbled forward then, awkward in her guardsmen's disguise. "These Wardens kidnapped me and my maid! They placed me in this uniform so my people could not rescue me! Oh, you have to help-"

The queen was pitch perfect. The weepy sounding voice, with just a touch of true fear... nevermind it was she and that blasted handmaiden of hers that had bid them come in the first place! If a stare could kill, the look Serena shot at the queen then would have left her a pile of ashes. She could hear Zevran cursing, a steady stream of Antivan bubbling out from his lips. She hadn't known the Antivans had so many words that meant 'bitch'.

Cauthrien caught Serena's eye next, and something like triumph flashed there, if only for a second. Serena could have kicked Anora for how much they set them back with her little melodrama. If she ever got out of this, she would kick Anora, queen or not, preferably in the face.

Then Cauthrien's guards moved, and Serena lost track of everything in the ensuing madness. The queen disappeared in the throng of guards as Serena and her fellows took up their weapons, ready to fight.

It was brutal, the men taking the queen's supposed kidnapping personally, it seemed. Great swords flashed and it was everything she could do not to be cleaved into two by a square-shouldered man that easily could have passed as a bear. Cauthrien's dark head appeared nearby and she saw her blade clash with Alistair's father's sword, the two nearly matched as her blade was that much larger.

He used his shield to block her from taking Serena, but it was her loss as her focus shifted and the large man knocked her flat. She felt the man's weight as he dropped onto her back, holding her down as she struggled. Rope was being tied tightly around her wrists, cutting deep into the sensitive flesh there.

"Bring the Wardens... Loghain doesn't care about the other two..."

Two? Serena heard Cauthrien's words just before something slammed into the back of her head. There was a loud crack, the sound of her skull busting open, and her head exploded in pain and then darkness.

And then nothing at all as she blacked out.


	72. Chapter 72

**Author's Note:** I fudged the map of Denerim a _tiny_ bit for this chapter. 'The Dregs' is a section of Denerim where the lowest class lives in near squalor- it's named in the DA Table Top RPG, _Blood of Ferelden_. It borders the Market District right up to the Docks, and I imagine the Alienage is pretty darn close. (What better place to keep your poor elves than right next to your poor humans?)

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><p><span>Chapter <span>72 - _Captured_

Serena awoke to a chill that felt like it was intending to creep inside her bones. Her body felt heavy, injured, like every inch of her was bruised. Her muscles protested as she pulled her upper body up from the rough stone floor.

_Floor?_ She glanced around through blurry eyes. Cell. She was in a cell. Howe's dungeon then? No... _Cauthrien_... Serena remembered the tight-lipped woman and her too large great sword. She resisted the growing urge to let out a solid stream of expletives. Loghain's simpleton of a lackey wasn't even worth the breath it would take to utter them.

One hand went to her head, just above her beck, where a large knot had formed. It ached to touch it, and she could feel the dried blood that clotted on her skin and in her hair, making the strands of auburn thick and lumpy. She must have taken the pommel of that damn sword to her head.

"I was hoping you would wake up soon, I was beginning to worry." Alistair's voice was hoarse, as if he'd been shouting a great deal. He pulled a thin blanket from around him and placed it over Serena's shoulders. It was then she realized they were missing their weapons, their packs... their clothes. The cell was empty except for them, the blanket and two rotted mattresses strewn about the floor.

"Ah, yes," Alistair muttered, his cheeks blushing pink. "It's a good thing you were out for that. They... stripped us both bare. After our fair share of beatings, of course." He held out a hand expansively. "Lovely, isn't it?"

"How long was I out? Where are the others? Alim? Fergus?"

"Alim and Morrigan were captured along with us; Fergus got out with Zevran. I bet Anora is with them." He frowned. "It's unfortunate she wasn't lost in the fight... Or beaten with a stick."

"Bitch," Serena growled, pulling the blanket as tight as she could as she leaned against Alistair.

"I'll second that."

"So Alim and Morrigan are here?" Serena looked through the bars of the cell they were in. The cell to the left was empty. The cell to the right held a pile of rags that had formerly been a man, she assumed.

"They _were_ here," Alistair said. "The guards didn't know, or didn't care, they were mages, so they threw them in there. Morrigan promptly changed into a bird and flew out the window. Alim didn't want to leave us, but I ordered him to go. That was about an hour ago... You've been out for the better part of a day, I'd guess, if that tiny window is any indication, anyway."

He pushed a small bowl towards her, filled with crusts. The sound of scraping stonework made Serena's head pound, but it was easily counteracted by the drag in her belly. If she'd been out for hours, then she'd missed at least two meals. Her stomach whined.

"I saved these for you, and Alim gave me theirs, too, so it should help... The guard didn't want me to keep them if you... but I insisted." There was a note of pride in his voice. "Used my princely charms, you know. Along with a few well-placed threats I learned from you."

Serena scooted closer, wrapping the blanket around them both as she stuffed the bits of bread in her mouth. He was warm, despite the cool winter air that seeped in through that tiny window, and the multitude of cracks in the walls.

"You were right to send him back." Serena sighed, looking wistfully into the now empty bowl, wishing she could eat the crumbs left littering the bottom of the earthenware. "We're in Fort Drakon, aren't we?"

"Yes. The lower dungeons." Alistair's grin was utterly sardonic. "For political prisoners."

"So much for keeping the Warden's neutral," Serena murmured. She put a hand to her head again, searching the clumps of hair for any of her hair pins. "Maker, please," she whispered. There was one, caught in a disgusting glob of dried blood, and she prayed the lock wasn't a complicated one.

"I hope you weren't becoming too fond of this place."

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "I could be done of it soon, certainly." He glanced at the pin idling in her hand. "Does my dear little wife have a plan?"

"We're busting out, love."

* * *

><p>"Eamon! We have a problem!"<p>

Morrigan had arrived moments before Alim, her face set in tight lines of anger and mistrust. He hadn't known her terribly long, but he liked to think he knew her well, and she was silently fuming over the queen's betrayal of them all. He imagined she wouldn't stay so silent for long.

The fact that Anora had somehow slipped Cauthrien's close watch and arrived here, unscathed, spoke volumes. Though of what, Alim wasn't quite sure yet. The queen was proving to be as slippery as a snake, and as deadly. Serena and Alistair were still captured in Fort Drakon. He would still be there, too, if Alistair hadn't practically pushed him out the door.

"You can fly!" he had yelled, flinging a hand through the cell bars. "I can't go anywhere, not with her like this. Go! Get Eamon! Get the others! Alim, just go!" Alim had changed then, his hawk form coming easily now, and escaped out of the small window near the top of the dungeons. Morrigan had been circling the sky, waiting for him, though he knew she would never admit it.

They had practically raced back to the arl's estate, where they found Wynne and Leliana tending to the injured elves and other prisoners they'd rescued. Anora had arrived at Eamon's just minutes after Alim and Morrigan, her face flushed, and her obnoxious handmaiden in tow. Alim turned, refocusing on the conversation happening before him.

"Calm down, calm down." The arl held a steady hand out, his eyes flipping between the group of them, obviously searching for their missing fellows. "Where is... what has happened?"

There was a long pause before Anora spoke next. "The Wardens have been captured."

"How... how could this have happened?"

"Never mind that," Anora said briskly. "The question is how to free her."

Eamon frowned. "Surely you mean them, your Highness? We need Alistair, too."

"Alim and myself were also captured, no thanks to her _Highness_," Morrigan said acidly. "When confronted in Howe's estate, she turned us over to that mousy-haired Cauthrien woman, claiming _we'd_ kidnapped her!"

"Is that true, Anora?"

"I panicked," the queen replied, her eyes darting about the room. Perhaps she was sensing the turning tide against her? Alim dared to hope she had that much sense. "I told Serena not to reveal me, Howe's people... my father's... it was entirely too dangerous... I could have been killed!"

"And so when the going got tough, you thought it best to throw us to the dogs?" Zevran had joined the group, Fergus with him. Both were staring daggers at Anora's back. "I just barely got Teyrn Fergus out of that viper's nest with his head intact."

"I apologize for putting you all in danger, but the good news is we're out. Unfortunately, the Wardens are not." Anora straightened her shoulders defiantly, as if willing them to say more. When they didn't, she continued. Alim hoped she didn't think that meant she'd somehow won. "Cauthrien will have taken them to Fort Drakon. Getting in, however, will be no small feat..."

"Alim and I escaped from there, we could just as easily slip back in."

"And how did you manage that, might I ask?" Anora turned to them, finally, her expression curious. "How is it you didn't get Serena or Alistair out?"

"They aren't mages," Alim said, stepping to stand between Morrigan and the queen. He could read clearly on the witch's face if the queen continued to provoke her, she would have a few beautiful new scars courtesy of some stray lightning bolts. "Morrigan and I flew out of the window."

Anora raised a perfect blonde eyebrow. "You _flew_."

"Are you deaf? Or just willfully ignorant?" Morrigan threw out her arms and changed, her golden eyes keeping their tense look on the icy blonde. Her small crow body hopped around the floor once before flitting up to perch on Alim's shoulder. The crow sqawked loudly at the queen and Alim winced, his elven hearing getting the brunt of the blast.

"We flew," Alim repeated needlessly. Arl Eamon rolled his eyes discreetly from behind the queen, a small smile playing about his lips.

"I see," Anora said tightly, her cold blue eyes locked on Morrigan-the-crow. "As I said, no easy feat, since the majority of us _cannot_ turn into birds."

"A pity, that," Eamon murmured. "If you'll leave us to it, Anora, I'll draw up a rescue plan with my friends here." It was a clear dismissal, and Alim saw the queen knew it. Her nose flared once before she turned on her heel and left the room, her dress robes swishing gently behind her.

* * *

><p>The chamber filled with screams. The guard, who had spent most of the last two hours pacing directly in front of their cell, had disappeared for the moment.<p>

"Off helping them carry the bodies, I bet," Alistair muttered. "If I'm made king, we're remodeling this place, from the ground up."

Serena snorted, working her hair pin in the lock as quickly as her bruised fingers could manage. "But the torture racks do so much for the decor, love." Another high-pitched wail pierced the air and they exchanged a panicked look. "Nevermind. You're right. They have to go. The blood splatter just clashes with... with everything."

"Not to rush you, love, but that guard could come back any second..."

"I know, I know, it's just, I need another..." Serena shoved her finger in the lock, her face a grimace. The metal dragged against her skin as she pressed up, and the lock clicked open. "Okay, here we go. There's a mabari down there, too, and I think I can... I think I can cause a stir."

"You have a plan?"

"I wouldn't say it's so much a _plan_ as it is a... a proposal." Serena closed her eyes, concentrating on the mabari signature she sensed in the torture pit beyond their tiny cell. The dog was well trained, and he pressed against her influence, but the temptation to obey to her, in the end, was too strong. The hound went wild, barking like mad and streaking up the stairs and out the large door at the end.

Two guards started after the dog, shouting curses while the third, the man who had been pacing in front of their cell, called out. "You catch that mutt, eh, men? I'll just stay here, got to watch the prisoners and all."

"Lazy bastard," Serena muttered. "Figures he would stick around." She banged on the now unlocked door hard with the flat of her hand. "Oh, Maker, make it stop, make it stop!"

"What are you _doing_?" Alistair whispered. "You're going to bring that lout over here."

"That's the bloody point." Serena clutched at her side and felt a bruised rib respond unexpectedly. The wail she let out was real. "Ohhhh... Maker... help!"

"Ser! Ser! You have to help me, my friend here..." Alistair ran up to the bars of the cell, sticking his arms through and waving them frantically. Serena was glad he'd caught on quickly as she pressed another rib and nearly screamed.

"Please, ser, help us!" Alistair pleaded. "Help me! She's dying! She's dying!" Serena could hear the note of real fear in his voice as she screamed again, doubling over in pain. She wished Wynne were here. These busted ribs weren't going to heal themselves.

"If you're not bleeding, I don't care!" the guard yelled.

"She is, though! She's bleeding, oh Maker, it's coming out of her mouth..." Alistair pulled Serena near the door, positioning her just behind it so the guard couldn't see her without coming inside.

"Blood out the mouth? Let me see..."The stubbly-faced guard pulled open the unlocked door, his eyes wide. "What the bleeding hell...?" Alistair pulled his fist back and landed it square in his face as the guard spun, his head twisting to the side. Alistair swung again, pushing the guard over Serena's huddled form where he fell back in a heap and didn't move.

"Oh, well, not exactly what I was thinking, but... that works, too." Serena put a hand to the man's throat, checking for a pulse. He was knocked out, his breath ragged. "We won't have much time. Let's find our gear, get whoever they're messing with downstairs, and get the bloody hell out of here!"

* * *

><p>It had snowed since they had been dragged into Fort Drakon, Alistair thought. Small drifts of white, powdery fluff, like cold cotton, piled up on the side streets as their boots crunched along. It must have been nearing midnight; many of the lanterns were out already, the oil in them long since burned out.<p>

"We can't go to Eamon's," Serena murmured. "Not yet. Not tonight." She was in pain, Alistair could tell, as she practically limped along through Denerim's back alleys. Between them they supported a very weak blonde haired man that Alistair had recognized from Ostagar, one of Cailan's honor guard. He was badly injured, having been set in shackles and hung on the wall like a slab of meat. Serena had insisted on bringing him with them, even though it had nearly gotten them killed, twice, while they snuck out of the fort.

As it was, Serena had taken a punch to the stomach in a scuffle near the fort's exit as she protected Ser Henry. Alistair had nearly been skewered himself, but his father's sword hadn't failed him yet, and he'd drove it deep in the guard who'd tried to take him out.

"If we aren't going to Eamon's, where are we going?" Wherever it was, he was hoping it was close. The cold was starting to cause his various bumps and bruises to ache painfully. He needed rest, and real food.

"The Dregs."

"The Dregs," Alistair repeated, numb. "We're going to the Dregs."

"Yes."

"We're going to the Dregs."

"_Yes_," Serena said. Her voice held just the slightest hint of exasperation. "Just for the rest of the night, then we'll make it to Eamon's in the morning."

"Why can't we just go there now?"

"Because Loghain will have men waiting for us there, surely. It's not safe to implement Eamon in our supposed kidnapping of Anora-"

"I wouldn't be surprised if she's there already."

"Or our breakout from Drakon," Serena continued. "Poor Ser Henry could use some sleep, too, I'm sure." At her mention of him, the battered knight sighed pathetically. His right leg was practically dragging along the snowy cobbles.

"Of course we get the first snow when we're locked up," Alistair grumbled. "So, I don't suppose you have a place to stay, in the Dregs?"

"Zevran told me of a place, actually. He stayed at an inn, he said, just on the outskirts of the docks. We have plenty of coin between us, and they won't ask questions." Serena readjusted the knight on her shoulder, her face twitching in pain. "We'll blend in, get some sleep, get some food... we'll be back at Eamon's before you know it."

"Because the rest of the plan has gone so well."

"Have faith, brother." Ser Henry coughed uncomfortably from between Alistair and Serena. "If not... for you two... I'd be lying dead... right now. Every... every moment is... is a gift."

There was a long pause and Alistair felt shame redden his cheeks. They didn't speak again until they'd reached the Dregs, the poorest section of Denerim, only slightest more kept up than the elven Alienage. The tiny inn Serena led them to looked like it had been through hell, but taking Henry's words to heart, Alistair simply shook his head, helping the blonde man up the stairs while Serena took care of their expenses for the evening.

"At least the pillows are soft," he whispered.

"Small mercies," Serena mumbled, snuggling into his shoulder as she closed her eyes.

* * *

><p>"Tell me you found them." Arl Eamon stood up from his desk, his alert eyes focused on their new guest. "Tell me that you found <em>something<em>."

Zevran shook his head, frowning. "No, m'lord. Alim flew back to the fort, but it was covered in guards. It would appear they escaped on their own. We tried to track them through the snow, but even Serena's mabari lost the scent after we arrived in the Market District."

"The Market District?" Anora sat back, her blonde braids were still perfect, her makeup expertly done. _She_ certainly hadn't lost any sleep over the missing Wardens. "If they made it all the way there, why not just come back to this estate?"

"They're in hiding, I would guess," Zevran replied, but to Eamon. All of the companions had made a pact to otherwise ignore the queen, unless she specifically addressed one of them. "Even with Howe dead, Loghain's people have been spotted roaming the Market District and the docks, looking rather dubious. This also came, addressed to Teyrn Fergus." He passed the letter to the arl, who read it quickly.

Zevran had already memorized the words. A note from 'Master Bryceson'; Serena's brother had explained it had really come from a contact of theirs in the city guard. Loghain had put them on high alert, and wanted posters were set to go up in the morning with Serena and Alistair's likenesses on them, as long as another man's, a Ser Henry. Another escapee from Fort Drakon, Fergus had explained. He had met him briefly at Ostagar before he'd been lost in the Wilds.

The posters held a reward for 500 sovereigns, an enormous sum to any person, even other nobles, for solid information leading to the apprehension of the 'political dissidents and rogue fugitives' whose picture the parchment carried. The guard was ordered to capture them first, but if that proved difficult...

"I see. Well, this certainly complicates things." The older man folded up the note and handed it back to Zevran. The elf resisted the urge to chuckle as Anora's cold blue eyes followed the parchment as it disappeared in his belt pouch, envy written all over her face.

"Well, it's nearing closer to the morning than the evening, anyway. I suppose we cannot expect them to waltz into the estate tonight." Eamon sighed, running a hand through his hair, mussing the neat braids just a bit. "Get some rest, and we'll set out in the morning to look for signs of them. Goodnight all." With a curt nod to Anora and a warmer one to Zevran, the arl exited the room.

"You." Anora's voice was tight with a suppressed emotion, and the assassin longed to know what it was as her eyes snapped quickly to the door and back to Zevran's. "A word?"

Did that count? Zevran wondered distractedly as he paused at the doorway. It wasn't a direct address, surely, being referred to as 'you'. He turned his head to indicate he was listening. He would not give her any more than that. She certainly deserved even less.

"Regardless of what my father may or may not of done, I'll have you know I'm still queen of this land. I understand you bare a close... association with Lady Serena and... Prince Alistair, but I still deserve to be obeyed." She paused, seeming to come to the realization that she wasn't winning any friends by taking the more domineering approach. "I want us to get along, and work together to... dispose my father, if possible."

"If I may speak freely, your Highness?"

Anora frowned, waving a hand absently. "You may."

"I rather think you should count yourself lucky Serena has the evening away from you to cool her temper. Your father's intentions towards you should be the very last of your worries."


	73. Chapter 73

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who is taking the time to continue reading and leaving feedback! Unfortunately, life has sort of smacked me in the face with responsibilities, so I may not be able to update as quickly. My apologies! I will try to make it once a week, though.

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><p><span>Chapter <span>73 - _A Pirate's Life For Me_

The morning came too early for Alistair. Sun streamed in the windows, causing Serena's hair to glow as she marched into the room. He hadn't noticed she'd even left. Her arms were laden with papers and plates. Alistair heard his stomach rumble loudly, and he hoped the plates carried food.

"So, I've got good news and I've got bad news." Serena placed a plate of muffins, what type, Alistair couldn't begin to guess, on the small side table. "Which would you like first?"

"Bad news, love." Picking up on the muffins, he examined it closely. Could mud be considered a flavor? Shrugging it off, he bit into the muffin. Food was food at this point.

"Somehow I knew you'd pick that." Serena pulled something else from her belt purse; a piece of parchment. Unrolling it, he saw it had a poorly done sketch of her on it. Two mens faces were next to it, both with lighter colored hair.

"Is that supposed to be us?" Alistair asked around a mouthful of muffin. At Serena's nod he swallowed hard. "So, we probably shouldn't be just... wandering around the Market District, huh? Considering our faces are... plastered everywhere."

"No, we really shouldn't," Serena agreed. "But the good news is I made a new friend. She's in the smuggling business and is willing to help us... err... alter our appearances so we aren't found out immediately during our delivery."

"Three questions: why do we need disguises? And who is this new friend? And what are we delivering?" He popped the rest of the muffin in his mouth and grabbed another. It sounded like it was going to be another busy day.

"Do you remember that templar who gave us his ring?"

Alistair nodded. "The one for his sister. Alfie? Something like that."

"His sister is Bann Alfstanna of the Waking Seas." Serena was wearing the ring on her right hand; for safe keeping, Alistair assumed. "We need to get this to her, let her know what happened to her brother... maybe garner her support in the Landsmeet."

"Okay, so that's the delivery. And the disguises are so we can go where? Her estate?" Alistair wasn't thrilled to be wandering into another nobles estate unbidden and disguised, considering how well the last time had gone.

"I was thinking the Gnawed Noble," a new voice added from the doorway. Dark eyes flicked quickly to the bed, one eyebrow raising before switching back to Serena. "Or we could try the Pearl. I imagine we could find _lots_ of nobles there."

Alistair pulled the blankets up to cover his bare chest as the busty brunette chuckled, her voice suddenly low and husky. "Don't cover up on my account, sweetheart."

He saw Serena cover a grin as she turned to introduce the newcomer. "Alistair... meet Captain Isabela of the Siren's Call. My newest-"

"And dearest-" Isabela added.

"-Friend."

Alistair looked to the ceiling. Sweet Maker, what was he getting into?

* * *

><p>She was dressed as a man.<p>

Not that Serena didn't consider her leggings and armor somewhat manly anyway, but Isabela had brought her and Alistair these clothes, borrowed from a few of her crewmen. Large leather breeches, patched in both of the knees, and a shirt and jerkin that were at least three sizes too large. Alistair looked much the same, though he was large enough to fill the ship man's clothing without the extra padding that Serena had to wear.

"Do you think it makes my butt look big?" Serena asked jokingly. They were weaving their way through the busy Market District, loaded down with crates of trading supplies and alcohol. Isabela had them carrying them in such a way as to disguise their faces, and Serena had a large brim had to cover her long hair. It was a perfect disguise.

"Not any bigger than usual, _Marco_," the dark haired captain teased, using the fake names they'd decided on back at the inn. "Follow me, kids. We're heading in through the back, and the bartender is going to meet us there." She threw a salacious sway into her hips. "He's an old friend." She didn't need to expound about what type of 'friend' the bartender happened to be.

"Oh, I don't even want to know," Alistair murmured. He glanced at Serena from around the two large barrels of ale he was pushing on a small cart. "If it's any consolation, you _do_ look like a man with all that padding..."

"Hooray," Serena murmured gruffly, trying to lower her voice to sound like a larger man. "It's like Denerim is making all my dreams come true. First prison, and now I look like a fat dock worker. My father would be so very proud."

It was just the three of them heading around the back of the Gnawed Noble Tavern. Two of Isabela's men had come to collect Ser Henry earlier- he was now resting peacefully on the Siren's Call in the captain's private quarters. Isabela stepped up confidently to the door and knocked what appeared to be a special series of knocks before the door slid open and she marched inside, Alistair and Serena on her heels.

"Ah, my lovely pirate queen. Right on time." The chubby bartender was the same as the last time Serena had been inside the Gnawed Noble. Friendly with a certain dubious charm, she had seen how sharp he'd been when they'd asked around about how many of the highborn families had arrived for the Landsmeet. His eyebrow had raised and she'd had to slip him a bit of gold to get any further information out of the man. Lloyd? Boyd? She couldn't remember his name, but his glittering green eyes, those she didn't forget.

"The storage is right this way, if your deck hands will just drop those off right there..." He led them through the back and past the small but bustling kitchen area. Serena hadn't realized the tavern even served food, though it must considering how serving girls and kitchen staff alike seemed to hop about as if their shoes were on fire. "Busy day, you know, what with the all them nobles in town."

"Any staying with you, Floyd?" Isabela purred, wrapping an arm around the tubby man as if she meant to seduce him right there.

"Ah, well, we got Ceorlic and his lot, and some of them from Dragon's Peak." Floyd pursed his lips, trying to remember more. "Aye, and Alfstanna and some of the higher up families of the Waking Seas are staying in three of the suites upstairs. I think that's the lot of them, though the place is right packed with others who just want to be in town for the talks."

"Did you hear that?" Alistair whispered, pulling the cart to a stop in the storage room Floyd had indicated to them. "She's staying here!"

"All we have to do is get upstairs and give her the ring, and you know, he mentioned Dragon's Peak, too..." Serena placed the crates gently down in the corner, her arms straining from the effort of carrying them half way across the city. "Maybe we could talk to Bann Sighard about his son, too. He probably doesn't even know the lad is at Eamon's."

"How do we get up there, though?"

"Floyd... I believe there was that arrangement of my payment?" Isabela's voice drifted to them from the hallway outside. There were some wet smacking sounds and Serena and Alistair exchanged uneasy glances. It looked like Isabela was providing just the distraction they needed.

"She's incorrigible," Alistair mumbled, his cheeks flushing red as they slipped out of the storage room and into the tavern's main hall.

"She's _amazing_. Now walk like you belong," Serena directed, picking up the pace as they headed for the stairs. "Nobody will question it if you look like you're heading for your room."

"Yes, because smelly dock workers always get rooms at the Gnawed Noble."

"Shush."

"Alistair?" a lilting voice called softly. "Is that you?"

Serena cursed, her head snapping at the sound of... "Leli?"

"Thank the Maker we found you!" The redhead bounced forward and hugged them both, her eyes going slightly wide at Serena's unusual appearance. "Uh... what happened to you?"

Beside her Wynne stood from their table where it seemed like the two women had been sharing a bottle of wine between them. Both their cheeks appeared rosy from the alcohol, and Serena wondered how long it had taken her and Alistair to get from the Siren's Call to the tavern. Was it the afternoon already?

"Long story short, there's posters up all over-"

"Oh yes, we've seen a few burned up a bit around the Market District," Wynne replied, her voice dripping with mock concern. "Or slashed up until you can't really tell who they're trying to warn you about... It's terrible, really. The guard ought to watch out for these street people... they're really liable to do anything."

"Well, we certainly appreciate it, not that those posters would be any use to passerby now," Serena said, indicating her changed look. "If you'd care to join us, we were just about to head upstairs to finish some business left over from the arl's estate."

Leliana cocked her head to the side, confusion reading all over her face. "From Eamon's? He sent you on some business? Is that why you two did not come home last night? Zevran said-"

"No, no, the other arl." Serena gave her a significant look. "The... the _other_ arl." Beside her Alistair mouthed the word 'Howe' and Leliana made a small 'oh' of acknowledgement. Wynne rolled her eyes, dropping a few coins on their table to cover the wine.

"After you, ser..." Wynne said with an exaggerated gesture forward.

* * *

><p>"My brother said <em>what<em>?"

"Irminric, right? He said to give this to you." Alistair held up the small silver ring and he saw the young noblewoman's eyes go wide with recognition. "He was being held prisoner in Howe's dungeons because Loghain saw fit to persuade the mage they'd hunted down to try to poison Arl Eamon."

"What? That's madness!"

"Yes, but..." Alistair thrust the ring into the woman's hands. "Loghain has gone mad."

"It's true, Bann Alfstanna," Serena said. "The mage had escaped from the Tower of Magi, and your brother, along with some others, tracked him down. Loghain interfered, though, seeing a use for the mage in harming Arl Eamon..."

"Irminric did mention being waylaid by the regent..." Alfstanna ran a fine-boned hand through her short hair. "I never thought he would be mixed up in this sort of... Is he alright? Irminric?"

"He was going through lyrium withdraw, and... it was all we could do to get him out..." Alistair shifted uncomfortably. It was one of the more unpleasant side effects of being a templar; becoming dependent, and then addicted, to lyrium. He sent a silent prayer up to the Maker for Duncan's timely rescue of him.

"I would think he would have sought sanctuary within the arms of the Chantry," Serena added helpfully.

"Well, thank you. I... I'll have to go see if I can find him, but... but thank you for letting me know, regardless." Dark eyes snapped between Serena and Alistair. "Is there something I can do for you? Gold or...?" She shrugged listlessly, as if money were no object to her.

"Please, keep your gold. But if we could ensure Waking Seas support in the Landsmeet against Loghain, that would be reward enough."

"And if we're not to support the regent, who shall I be supporting?"

"Maric's other son, Alistair," Serena said, tapping the blonde on the shoulder.

For her part, Alfstanna didn't laugh, or make any mention of Alistair's uncomely parentage. "Then you have it. But... do dress better for the Landsmeet. You are a _prince_, after all."

* * *

><p>Leliana and Wynne faired much better than Serena and Alistair had, as it turned out.<p>

"Oh, that man, Bann Sighard... what a darling man. He was so sweet," Leliana gushed to them as they quickly made their way back to Arl Eamon's estate. "Wynne explained that we'd found his son down in Howe's dungeons, and helped him back to Eamon's... he said he'd be by to see him as soon as his wife returned from her shopping."

Alistair rolled his eyes. "Maker forbid he go _get_ her or anything, it is his _son_ we're talking about here."

"He has three others," Serena said quietly, pulling some of the padding from underneath her shirt and the crewman's jerkin she wore. The shirt hung off her as they headed down the halls, their destination obvious. "And Oswyn was always a bit of a troublemaker. I imagine Sighard probably thought he was playing some sort of prank."

"He seemed doubtful at first, but when Wynne explained the extent of his son's injuries..."

Wynne sighed. "I doubt he'll ever be able to raise his hands above his head again, the poor dear. And no amount of healing could fix the scars to his soul, of course..." She trailed off as they passed by one of Eamon's servants, who squeaked and bowed hastily at the sight of Serena and Alistair.

"M'lord! M'lady! They have been looking for you for days!" The elven servant dipped another low bow, her face flushed. "Everyone has been preparing for your return-"

"Days? Really?" Serena turned to Alistair. "Has it really been days?"

The tall blonde shrugged. "Three counts as plural, I suppose, yes."

Zevran rounded the corner then, probably drawn by the servant's exclaimation. His amber eyes narrowed at the pair and Serena felt a bit like a child about to be scolded. She never knew the playful assassin could look so serious.

"Never, ever, _ever_, disappear like that again, if you please."

"We'll do our best," Serena murmured, wrapping the elf in a quick hug. "You knew we weren't going to come back, though. Not right away."

"No, and I advised Eamon as much." Zevran gestured up the short staircase that led to Eamon's study. "He'll be waiting, of course. With Anora."

Serena couldn't help the grimace. "Of course." She put a hand to her head in an effort to forestall the inevitable headache. "_Of course_ _she's_ _here_." Exchanging a quick glance with Alistair she marched up the stairs, the others right behind her.

"I hope she doesn't kill her," Alistair whispered to Zevran.

The assassin snorted. "_I_ hope she does."

* * *

><p>Eamon's door creaked open as Serena stepped inside. One hundred thousand admonishments had passed through her mind during the hundred foot walk it took to reach the arl's private study. She could almost smell Anora's deceitful stench from the hall. <em>Maker grant me strength this day<em>, she prayed silently. _So that I may not murder this woman outright_.

"Maker's breath, it's good to see you in one piece!" Eamon seemed more than visibly relieved at Serena and Alistair's sudden appearance in the study. He stepped forward, wrapping both arms around the pair. Serena was somewhat overtaken by his emotion, it reminded her of her father's warm embrace back at Castle Cousland. Nodding politely to the others, his eyes flicked to Zevran unconsciously. "We were nearly going out of our minds with worry."

"Indeed. We have been praying for your safe return, Warden," Anora added. "Wardens." She made the amendment quickly, but everyone still noticed it. Perhaps she even intended them all to hear it.

"I'm sure you have," Serena replied icily. "So, what happens now?"

"I hope we can get past what happened at Howe's estate, Serena," Anora said confidently, squaring her shoulders as if for a fight. Serena thought it smart of her. "It was unfortunate, of course, what ended up happening, but I think we can put it behind us. We're all adults here, after all."

Serena crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. "We're not, however, all adults who have spent the evening in the loving arms of the guards of Fort Drakon. You told Cauthrien we _kidnapped_ you, Anora. How in the realm does that even make sense? If we were to kidnap you from the palace, why would we bring you _there_ of all places?"

"I panicked, Serena! Surely you can understand that someone under such duress..."

"You were locked in a guest room! _I'd_ just killed the murderer of my parents! There can be no greater duress than that!"

"Ladies, please." Eamon held out a hand to each of the women, his face tense. "I have spoken long and hard with Anora, and I think she really feels remorse for her actions. Serena, I know what you went through at Rendon Howe's was... ghastly... I spoke to Fergus and I can't even begin to conceive..." He paused, his eyes closing briefly before he continued. "But the fact remains that we need to stand united against Loghain."

"Of course, I know..." Serena bit her lip, her eyes flicking quick to Alistair and then back. She forced a tight smile on her face. "It's... it's g-good to see you're all right, Anora." The words tasted like ash in her mouth and she couldn't help noticing Anora's impeccable clothing, her perfect hair. Serena felt irritation flare up in her again, but squashed it, painfully, back into her stomach.

Anora bowed her head, her cheeks still flushed with anger. "Thank you, Serena." Turning again to Eamon, she appeared to steel herself for her next words, taking a deep breath. "My father has gone mad. I didn't believe it at first, but he is gripped by a paranoia so severe it prevents him from seeing sense."

"He saw _me_ as a threat, yet even now I'm certain he will be telling the nobles you are dangerous murderers that have kidnapped and mind-controlled me. He may even _believe_ it. Howe's influence was so strong... his death can only be a good thing."

"I'm sensing a but..." Alistair murmured.

"But even that will not be enough. I know my father." Anora frowned, as if the comparison to him would no longer be a welcome one. "He is committed to his course. He will see this through, no matter what..."

"Then it's terrible he should run up against us, because we're right stubborn about this Blight business."

"...You will need ammunition come the Landsmeet, and I can help in that regard," Anora continued as if Serena hadn't spoken, her words sounding very much like a rehearsed speech. "You have only just arrived in the city, so perhaps you are unaware of some... recent events. Denerim has been in turmoil since Ostagar. Many people here are angry or grieving."

"Strangely, the unrest is worst in the alienage. Few elves accompanied the army. They should have little reason to be upset. Which means that Howe and my father must have given them reason. I don't know what is happening there, but I am certain my father has his hands in it."

"That's a useful lead, Anora, but you could have sent this information with your maid," said Eamon.

"That is true. I feared for my safety as Howe's prisoner, but to tell the truth, I sent Erlina to you because I hoped we might join forces. You need that evidence for the Landsmeet, but you also need a stronger candidate for the throne." Anora straightened her back importantly. "You need me."

"We already have a candidate for the throne," Serena said lightly, as if it weren't even a question.

"I have no doubt Alistair is biddable enough," Anora pressed. "And decent. But even with his blood, he is no king. You think only I can see it?"

Alistair opened his mouth to argue but Serena stilled him with her hand as Anora continued.

"Not only that, Alistair is a Grey Warden. It will look like you are trying to put a Grey Watden on the throne, despite your claims. I am a neutral party- and I am already queen."

"You are _hardly_ neutral, Anora Theirin Mac Tir," Serena replied. "Cailan's widow, and your father's daughter." Serena held up a hand, staying her protests. "We'll discuss who we are supporting at the Landsmeet later. Right now, I wish to wash up and speak to some of the people we rescued from Howe's dungeons..."

"I am what this country needs," the blonde protested. "Not an untrained king who does not even want the throne! I can help you stop my father."

"Like you helped stop him recently?" Serena shot back. "Please. We just escaped from a heavily guarded prison with our lives barely intact. I'd like to wash up and _discuss this later_."

"Of course," Anora said tightly. "Consider what I have said. I think I'll retire to my room for now. When you... have a moment, I ask that you speak to me in private."

"Just as soon as I'm able, Anora," Serena replied sweetly. She twiddled her fingers in an exaggerated pose of goodbye as the haughty blonde stalked out of the study.

"You could try to be more... gracious, my lady," Eamon said carefully. "She is _technically_ still the queen."

Serena snorted. "Yes. I'll remember to do that next time she tries to get us all killed."

"I cannot help thinking she may be more trouble to us than she's worth, but... we should keep her close, all the same."

Zevran pushed the door shut with his foot. "I cannot help but think she has already been more trouble than she is worth. We are trying to put Alistair on the throne, are we not?"

Eamon nodded, his eyes solemn. "This is... an alliance of convenience- for the moment, we are united against Loghain. I do not for a moment think Anora means to give up her power so easily."

"And to think, what wonderful thinks she's done with it so far..." Serena murmured.

"Anora was a capable administrator for Cailan's lands, but she has not a drop of royal blood. We did not fight the Orlesians all those years just to lose our royal line in a single generation. Not when there's a surviving son of the blood." He looked significantly at Alistair, who blanched.

"Oh, buck up," Serena said, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. "You'll be fantastic. You certainly can't be any worse than the royal regent of paranoia and his prissy daughter."

"That makes me feel so good, Serena."

"Without Theirin blood and the descendants of Calenhad to unite us, we could... scatter back into warring teyrnirs, or worse," Eamon added.

"Twist my arm, why don't you both." Alistair huffed. Rolling his eyes, he pushing some of his blonde hair up off his forehead and smiled crookedly. "If it means so much to you two, I guess I'll do it!"

"Don't mind him, Eamon, he really does want it. He was telling me so in Fort Drakon. He wants to redecorate-"

"You were saying about washing up, Serena?" Alistair said pointedly.

"Right. Well, we'll see you very soon, I'm sure." Stepping up, she gave Eamon another hug ans saw Alistair follow suit.

"It is good to have you both back, I cannot say it enough."

"After our less than comely lodgings last night, I cannot say enough how happy we are to _be_ back." With a curt nod to the others, they all shuffled out of the study and off to their various rooms, the day's exhaustion creeping up on them all.

"All this and to think we haven't even had lunch," Alistair sighed dramatically. "I shudder to think what it'll be like as king..."


	74. Chapter 74

**Author's Note:** Working hard to get updates out as quickly as possible. It always seems the nearer I am to the end, the harder it becomes to write! Anyway! Thanks to everyone taking the time to comment and offer encouragement! It is greatly appreciated.

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><p><span>Chapter <span>74 - _Speechifying_

A bath was just what Serena needed to release herself from the tension of the morning. Or the last few days. Or ever since they stepped foot in Denerim, if she was completely honest with herself. Something about the warm water, and the delightful bath salts that Arlessa Isolde kept well stocked in all the baths, was enough to pull her out of the angst-ridden mood she'd been in since confronting Anora earlier.

_Anora._

Even just thinking about the devious blonde made Serena's heart start beating quicker. Obviously, Anora meant to keep the crown. She made that much known with her speech about how nobody would back a bastard prince.

But people had already agreed to back them. Bastard son or not, Alistair stood a good chance at the Landsmeet. They had already secured support from the Waking Seas and from the Dragon's Peak bannorn... But it was definitely best to keep that to themselves, for now. Let Anora play her games, and Serena would play her own.

Wringing out her soaked hair, she reluctantly pulled herself from the still-warm bath. Anora was waiting, after all, and probably a multitude of other problems Serena would need to address. But first, she was going to see to the prisoners they'd rescued from Howe's torture chambers.

Pulling on warmer versions of the clothing she had been wearing to Howes, and infinitely grateful to be rid of Isabela's crewmen's breeches, she headed for the plush guest rooms where Leliana and Wynne had set up a makeshift infirmary for the injured.

Kallian was the first to look up when Serena walked in.

"We've been wondering after you for days, you know." The elven woman popped up out of her chair, the book she'd been reading was hastily set aside as she marched toward Serena. "Zevran said you'd been captured and it was all that blonde bitch's fault."

"He was not mistaken in that," Serena conceded, smiling somewhat sadly at the blonde. It appeared as if the days of rest had only sparked the woman into a new fury. "Anora says she didn't mean to do what she did, and as she is the queen..._ technically_... I suppose we have to acquiesce to that." She glanced around the room, nodding to the few others there, some elves, and a few soldiers Howe had locked up from Ostagar. The outspoken ones, she imagined.

"I wanted to talk to you all about a few things, if you're up for it," Serena began.

One of the soldiers coughed, leaning up in his bed to address her. "We owe you and your friends our lives, my lady. Any questions you may have, feel free to ask."

"Do you know of anything that may have upset the people living in and around the Alienage?" Serena asked carefully. The two elves, Kallian and Soris, exchanged a dark look, and Serena felt her stomach sink.

"You mean other than Vaughan and his people barging in on our weddings and kidnapping me and the others?" Kallian growled, tapping her slender fingers on the bedspread that Soris sat atop, his own book set aside now. "Other than him trying to... to..." Her voice faded.

Serena cleared her throat, not wanting to dredge up even more bad memories. "Anora said there was... unrest within the Alienage-"

"We haven't been out in months," Soris interrupted, his mouth turning down in a frown. "Wynne said we'd be able to go back to the Alienage in a few days, once she made sure we were as healed as we could be..."

Serena nodded. She hadn't been expecting them to have any information, they had been locked up for months after all, but the glimmer of hope she'd apparently been carrying regardless now squashed itself out. "Then we'll wait to check it out, and escort you back ourselves."

"It's plague," a new voice said from the doorway. Serena turned and Ser Samuell was standing there, in his city guardsmen's uniform. "They had us lock it down two days ago, for fear it would spread outside the walls of the Alienage."

"Plague?" Kallian's already pale face dropped of all color, her body slumping onto Soris's bedspread. "Have people... what's...?"

"I haven't seen any bodies, my lady," Samuell said quietly. "When there was a plague in Highever..." He glanced sidelong at Serena, who shuddered with the memory of it. Wagons had been hastily built to carry the dead and near dying out to the field for burial.

Her father had overseen it personally with the Revered Mother, consoling the survivors and their families. She had been fourteen. Samuell must have been seventeen? Nearing his vows for knighthood, certainly. She shook her head, refocusing her attention on the conversation at hand.

"You're right, there would be bodies," Serena murmured. "What do you suggest we do then, Samuell?"

Kallian snorted. "If you even trust a shem guardsmen. How do you know he isn't with the regent?"

"I would trust him with my life," Serena said firmly.

"I am only looking out for the people of Denerim," the former knight added. "All of Denerim's people, the elves included." He raised an eyebrow at the blonde elf. "What is a shem?"

Kallian opened her mouth to respond but it was Soris who beat her to it. "It's an old elven term for humans. The quick children."

"Quick children?"

The two elves exchanged another look, one Serena recognized as the same she would often trade with Alistair over what could and couldn't be divulged about the Grey Wardens. After an uncomfortable pause, Soris explained.

"It's said that before we were enslaved by the Tevinter Imperium, elves were free, and immortal. It wasn't until they started to breed with humans that their immortality began to fade. The word shem, shemlen, it means the quick children." The red-haired elf looked down at his hands. "Because your lives were so short when compared to ours."

"So it's not an insult?" Serena asked. The way some of the elves said it had made her wonder if perhaps it meant outsider or stranger.

"No," Kallian said, "Not in it's true meaning. I could call you a potato in a mocking tone and make it an insult though, couldn't I?"

"I wouldn't suggest trying it," Zevran replied, now entering the infirmary. He plopped down into a giant plush chair next to one of the soldiers, nodding politely to the man. Wynne had told her that Zevran had been spending a lot of time in the room, playing Diamondback with the soldiers and discussing a multitude of things with the other elves.

Right on his heels, Leliana leaned in the doorframe, her slight form drawing the eye of more than one of the soldiers recuperating in the room.

"So when are we storming the Alienage?" the blonde assassin asked, his amber eyes flicking to Serena, who in turn looked to Samuell.

"We could get you in as soon as... the day after tomorrow, perhaps." Samuell frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. "Hmm. Yes, that would work. I'll see to it. But you'll need to go under Eamon's protection. Even with Howe did, there's no telling what the regent may say to try to block you from entering, of course... Or imprisoning you."

"The day after tomorrow is Satinalia," Leliana said, counting the days on her hand.

"Oh, dear. Well, I know what I'll be doing the next day or so," Serena muttered guiltily, thinking of all the presents she had left to wrap... or in some of her companions cases, get at all...

Samuell shrugged at the bard. "So we give it a few days, I'll send a letter here to let you know."

"While meanwhile, a few more elves _die_," Kallian said harshly.

"I don't think any elves are dying," Zevran said.

"Would you care if they did, assassin?"

Soris put a hand on his cousin's arm in warning. "Kallian, he saved our _lives_." To Serena and the others he smiled sadly. "She has trouble with... control. Sometimes." The blonde elf opened her mouth to protest but Soris moved his hand to cover it, preventing her from speaking. "Make that _most_ of the time."

"Then Kallian is in fine company with us," Serena said, smirking. "So we're agreed then? After Satinalia we'll... uncover whatever it is that's happening in the Alienage."

Kallian pulled Soris' hand from her mouth. "And if people are dying? If the plague isn't some... some cover of that stupid long-haired regent?"

"I'll check it out personally today if you'd like," Serena offered. "I have to speak with Anora today, but I'd certainly welcome any excuse to get out of _that_..."

"No, it's fine, m'lady," Soris said quickly. "You have done so much for us already. Whenever you wish us to accompany you to the Alienage, Kallian and I would be glad to come."

"We'll hold you to that," Zevran said with a wink to the red-haired elf.

* * *

><p>"It's almost as if the archdemon chose Ferelden deliberately, knowing how unguarded it is."<p>

Serena slipped into the space behind the door, not sure if she should be hearing the conversation going on between Alistair and the rescued Warden, Riordan, but unable to deny her curiosity. Riordan's Orlesian accent drifted through the room to her.

"I shudder to think the archdemon can think that far ahead..." Alistair replied quietly. He had one hand to his temple, where he was slowly rubbing out of a headache. "You were saying about Weisshaupt...? Have you ever been there? To the fortress, I mean."

Riordan nodded. "Ah, only the once, and I'd rather not go again." At Alistair's apparent prompting, the older Warden continued. "It's far, lad, and very foreign. The Wardens there... they fight darkspawn like you and me, but they're shaped by the winters, and the forest. They're a cold group, and don't care like they should about the rest of the world. Their king... he is weak, and many Anders look to the Wardens to rule." There was a long sigh. "I hate to say this, but some of them seem to want it that way."

"So the Wardens aren't _really_ apolitical, are they?"

"Well, yes and no. We are meant to fight darkspawn, to stem the tide of darkness... we belong to every country and no country, but if a sovereign were to get in the way of that-"

"Could a Warden _become_ King?" Alistair interrupted. "I mean, well, I..."

"I am aware of your parentage, Alistair," Riordan said in his gently accented tones. "The Arl has also let me know of your plans to dispose Loghain."

"I guess I wanted to know your opinion on the matter."

"Duncan was a good friend of your father, Alistair. He always knew... I think both of them always knew that you could end up in this position if something were to befall Cailan. I think you will make a fine king, or a fine Warden, whatever you should choose." There was the sound of scraping chairs, and Serena tensed. "As for you, lass, you should know I've been a Warden for some time, and can always sense the Taint."

Serena slipped out from behind the door, her grin sheepish. "I... didn't want to... interrupt."

"It is no interruption, sister," Riordan replied, an easy smile coming to his lips. "It is good to see you're no worse for the wear after your stay in Fort Drakon."

"Mm, yes, that was unfortunate," Serena agreed. "I'm pleased to see you looking better, as well."

"Yes, a few more days and I should be well enough to continue my journey," Riordan said with a nod.

Alistair frowned. "Your journey? You're leaving already?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I want to try to get to Ostagar. Hopefully I will be able to trace the heart of the Blight and where the archdemon itself abides. If we want to defeat this archdemon, we need to know where it is and how it might strike."

"Surely you aren't going alone, though," Serena wondered aloud. "If you wait until after the Landsmeet, we could go with you..."

"If there were more of us, I would agree. But as it is, I don't think we can deprive all the armies you've gathered of a commander." Riordan shook his dark head. "The Landsmeet may not be for weeks yet. We cannot afford to wait that long, I'm afraid."

Suddenly his face lit up, as if he remembered something. "Before I go, I wanted you to have this, both of you." Handing Alistair, who was closer, a small slip of paper, he smiled his sad, easy smile. "There is a vault, here in Denerim, just off the Market District. The alley that runs north past the Gnawed Noble Tavern will lead you right to it." He motioned to the slip of paper. "That is the code which will let you past the lock-wheel."

"What's inside?" Alistair asked, his honey eyes focused on the miniscule piece of parchment he held. Serena could see he was trying to memorize it silently.

"It is the stockpile the Wardens have kept for centuries for the defense of Denerim," the senior Warden replied. "You can take your pick of whatever equipment remains." With a small wave, he moved from the room, leaving Alistair and Serena alone.

"Still worried about your... heritage?" Serena asked quietly.

"Always. I'm warming to the idea that people may actually believe I can do this job, though. That's three now. Eamon, Riordan, and you."

She leaned against him, pressing herself into his warmth. "Well, you make a great Warden. Who's to say you won't make an even better king?"

"I certainly can't do any worse," Alistair murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Speaking of worst, have you spoken to the ice queen yet?"

"I've been avoiding it, but..." Serena rolled her eyes. In the end, it was a small castle, and she was being somewhat childish about the whole thing, really.

"But if you don't find her, she'll surely find you," Alistair finished. "Don't worry, love, it'll all work out the way it should." He squeezed her close in a tight hug, a crooked smile lighting his features. "Try not to punch her in the face, though. It might set us back a bit."

* * *

><p>It felt like a death march, heading down the hallway that led to the queen's private rooms. Serena had practiced her careful replies on the way here, and in the few moments she'd taken in her room to do her hair up prefectly. She knew how much Anora placed on appearance, and she didn't want to come off as some beggar.<p>

Knocking politely on the large wooden door, she wondered absently if Erlina would be within. The bossy elven handmaiden was nearly as bad as Anora herself, in Serena's grand estimation.

It was one of Isolde's maids that answered the door, however, and Serena let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Shaking herself slightly to release the nervous energy, Serena strode into the queen's sitting room, where Anora sat, her arms folded as if she'd been waiting all day for Serena to finally show up.

Serena hoped she had.

"Hello again, Serena. It is good that you came to speak with me." Anora rose from her seat, her hands still clasped together. "First, let me say that I know what happened to your family, and I offer you my deepest sympathies. Eleanor was particularly dear to me, and what Howe did... was unforgivable. How fitting he died at your hands."

"My family wasn't the only one he hurt," Serena said softly. The mention of her mother had annoyed her; she knew for a fact Anora cared little at all for her, but she didn't let it show. "I didn't come here to discuss Howe, anyway."

"No, I suppose you did not." Anora unclasped her hands, finally, and Serena saw the look of faux concern disappear from her face as if she meant to settle into business. "I will be blunt. I can see that your voice will be a strong one in the days and weeks to come. It is to you that Eamon listens, and with good reason."

"I did save his life and all," Serena muttered. Her hands itched to pick at the hem of her dress but she suppressed it. Who knew what Anora would notice? What she would judge?

"Yes. So he said." Anora made a sound that in a less well-bred woman would have been considered a snort. "My father, of course, must be stopped. But once that is done, Ferelden will need a ruler." The queen took a deep breath. "I would welcome your support for my throne."

"Then you have it."

"I'm sorry- what?"

Serena sighed. She thought Anora was quicker than this. "You're proposing an alliance of sorts, correct?"

"Yes. That is exactly what I am proposing."

"Then you have my support," Serena replied, her hands held out in a gesture of surrender.

"When the time comes, you'll support my bid in the Landsmeet to remain on the throne?"

"Yes." I just _said_ that, didn't I? Serena thought.

"You will be seen as my father's enemy, yet you will be in support of his daughter," Anora reasoned, as if Serena hadn't figured any of this into her decision. "You will be seen as supporting the interests of Ferelden as opposed to solely those of the Grey Wardens."

"Yes."

"In return, I add my voice to yours."

"That would be nice, yes." There was a long pause before Serena spoke again. "And what would happen to Loghain under your rule?"

Anora frowned. "He is my father, as well as a great general who as served his nation well... until now. If there is a way for him to live... I would prefer it."

"And what of justice?" Serena asked. "Of the things he's done, the things he may _continue_ to do, should we not stand in his way in time...?"

"I will always be my father's daughter, Serena, but even _I_ know he must pay for his crimes. It will not make me glad, even so." Anora's hands fidgeted slightly, the only visible sign of her nervousness. "Does that affect your decision?"

"No, not particularly."

"And may I ask why aren't you supporting Alistair any longer?"

Serena shrugged, as if the question was an expected one. "As you've said, he doesn't _want_ to rule. Though I think he would be quite good at it, he enjoys being a Warden. It's as simple as that."

The blonde frowned again, her eyes seemed to bore into Serena's as if willing her to speak more. As if she could read the truth from inside her blue eyes. "And what of you? Do _you_ enjoy being a Warden?"

"Ask me after we've defeated the archdemon, your Highness," Serena replied, one dark eyebrow raised slightly at the obvious provacation. "I have offered you my support. If there's nothing else..."

"There isn't."

"Then I shall see you again soon, I imagine." With a slight bow, Serena strolled back out of the door she came in, leaving a sighing Anora in her wake.


	75. Chapter 75

**Author's Note**: I meant to get this out before the holidays, but things just kept getting in the way. Apologies for the long wait! Thank you all for the kind comments, and a very warm welcome to new readers! I hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter <span>75 - _Entering the Alienage_

It was nearly a week before Samuell's letter arrived at Eamon's estate, instructing them to head to the guard station posted outside the Alienage's high walls. Satinalia had passed with relative ease. Denerim was in high spirits for the holiday, with people openly drinking and kissing in the streets. Dance halls through the city had filled to the brim with friends and happy couples.

Serena and her companions had frequented the same tavern as they had for her birthday, everyone exchanging gifts, except Sten, of course, who claimed the Qunari had no such traditions, and he wasn't about to start the pointless trade of meaningless gifts now. Serena found it interesting that he didn't reject any of the gifts the others got him, though.

"So, he's gone now? Gone to Ostagar?" Alim's voice pulled Serena from her thoughts of Satinalia and back into the present. "How am I supposed to... you know... finish things?"

"He'll be back, Alim," Serena said softly. "Besides, we have no darkspawn blood to complete the ritual. Though at least we have a bit of the archdemon now... Well, _an_ archdemon, anyway."

She and Alistair had taken Alim with them to the Grey Warden vault the day before as they had practically raided the cache there. Inside a small chest they'd found a vial filled with dark, almost black, blood. Presumably, it was the blood from the archdemon who had begun the last Blight. A small ticket had been in the leather case with the vial that simply read "Andoral" in a neat script.

With a little research, and a short visit with Brother Genitivi, they'd found out Andoral had been the God of Slaves, also called the Dragon of Chains, and had been the archdemon who had been tainted and led the 4th Blight over four hundred years previously. Alim had been delighted to learn that the archdemon had been slayed by an elf named Garahel. "There's hope for me yet, then," he'd joked to Alistair.

Other than the archdemon blood, they'd found Duncan's shield, which Serena had promptly gifted to Alistair as an early birthday present. His gratitude towards the gift had nearly driven him to tears, and as it was, he'd pulled Serena into a bone-crushing hug.

Looking over, Serena saw he proudly displayed Duncan's shield, with the Grey Warden insignia emblazoned across the front, as they marched to the gate of the Alienage. Samuell was leading their group, which was as motley and highly conspicuous crew as always, past the city guard who nodded stiffly at them as they passed.

"He's a friend," the dark haired guard muttered under his breath to Serena. "He also owes me a bit of coin after our last game of Alouette, so I called in this bit as a favor. Raygard won't say a word."

The outside of the gate was absolutely forbidding. Tall, dark planks of wood shot up twenty-five feet in the air, which were then sharpened to spikes. The inside, if it was possible, was even worse. Calling it squalor would be a kindness, as the houses the elves lived in were little more than hovels, shacks made of wood that had been thatched at the top. The only lightness that broke through were the brightly colored clothes set out to dry on lines drawn between houses.

Even now, she saw many of the elves were outside, working hard to repair roofs and mend small fences that ran across small front porches. It was in much poorer shape than the Highever Alienage, at least from what Serena had seen from the one time she'd been allowed within it's gates. The only thing that appeared the same was the large tree in the center, the branches of which rose up high, higher even than the spiked gates of the Alienage gates.

"That is the "tree of the people," I believe," Leliana whispered to her. "The vhenadahl."

"It's beautiful."

Leliana nodded solemnly, her eyes on the thick dark leaves. "They are always beautiful. In every alienage I have visited, even the ones where the vhenadahl is not so well tended, it is magnificent."

"We're not going to be mobbed, right?" Alistair's voice carried just slightly through the group, and Serena saw Alim roll his eyes. "That's not something elves do here? Mob people?"

"Only when it suits us, shem," Kallian said testily, her eyes narrowed at the large blonde.

"Try not to offend further, my dear friend Alistair," Zevran added, his face a twin of Alim's.

"My father's house is just up this way," Kallian murmured, her annoyance with Alistair momentarily forgotten as relief flooded her delicate features.

"Kallian, wait-" Soris said, grabbing after his cousin. "The place looks..."

"It's been looted!" the blonde elf cried. "The whole place... it's..." Kallian slipped into a side room, her relief quickly shifting to frantic worry. "Father? Are you in here? Father!"

"It happened during the purge, after the wedding." A dark haired elf was leaning in the door way, his eyes catching Soris', who nodded gravely. "_My_ house was nearly set aflame."

Soris gestured to the newcomer. "This is Andarion, one of our cousins and a neighbor."

"Where's my father?" Kallian said, wrapping the dark haired elf in a quick hug. "Tell me he's alright! They didn't take him, did they?"

"Depends on which 'they' you mean," Andarion replied. "It's a plague, brought on by the Blight, or so they say. I've seen a few sick people, but I don't know how bad it really is." There was a careless shrug. "There are mages, from Tevinter supposedly, here helping to treat it. Shianni is out there now, shouting at them."

"So my father's sick?"

"If any of them are, then yes." Again, there was the casual shrug, as if life in the Alienage was rough, and these hardships were to be expected. The silence wore on for a solid minute before Serena headed back towards the door, a deep frown marring her face.

* * *

><p>"This bodes well," Alim said quietly, falling into step beside Morrigan as they crossed the Alienage, heading for the area Andarion had mentioned.<p>

"I have never heard of a plague brought on by the Blight when one was not actually exposed to the darkspawn," Morrigan replied. "Blight sickness... it occurs of course, but only in those who touch the darkspawn, or get their blood on them." She smiled. "Or in them."

"That's disgusting."

The witch snorted. "It's the nature of the beast."

"I've got _children_ at home, I can't wait out here for another day!"

A large group of elves stood milling about outside of one of the larger structures in the Alienage. Many women were among them, and Alim could see Serena with Kallian as they made a straight shot for a pale faced woman with bright hair. Kallian was mouthing something to Serena, who nodded in agreement to whatever the elf was saying, her head jerking towards a gruff looking mage who was openly frowning at the group.

"So go home! The best thing you can do for your children is not trust these charlatans!" The elven woman with flaming red hair shouted from the center of the group suddenly. "What do we even know about their supposed magic?"

"Everyone, remain calm." The rough human mage with a neatly trimmed beard stepped forward then, his eyes scanning the agitated crowd. "We'll try to help as many as we can today, so long as we can do this in an _orderly_ fashion."

"Ohhh, you're _helping_ us, are you, shem?" The accusatory tone was unmistakable. "Like Valendrian and my uncle Cyrion? Like you helped them, didn't you? Helped them never to be seen again!"

"Cyrion is Kallian's father," Alim murmured, his eyes on the elves who were watching Serena move forward with Kallian. "So he _has_ been taken..."

Morrigan frowned. "But is it by this so-called plague, I wonder?"

"We've explained this to you before, girl! More whining will not persuade us to let you into the quarantine so you can carry more plague back out to the alienage."

"Quit trying to get us all killed, Shianni!" another elf snapped, pushing slightly at the red haired woman. "Some of _us_ still have things to live for!"

"Ha! If this spell of theirs works, why are half the people they quarantine perfectly healthy?" With a dark look, the ginger haired Shianni turned on Serena, her eyes flashing angrily. "What's wrong, shem? Get bored and decide to watch some elves die of plague?" There was a dangerous flash of teeth before the woman's eyes flicked to the side. "Wait, Kallian?"

"Shianni!" The blonde wrapped her arms around her cousin, the two women clinging tightly to one another. "This is Serena. She and her friends helped Soris and I escape from Howe's dungeons..."

"I thought you were both dead... I hadn't dared hope..." Shianni grasped at her cousin once again, tears glistening unshed in her eyes. "What of the others?"

Kallian shook her head. "We couldn't, we... how did you-?"

"That mage... the dark haired one that was staying with Merylith? He came with Nelaros and the others. I barely got out, and not before... I... it... doesn't matter." Shianni shook herself, as if pushing off a terrible memory. Alim felt his insides squirm at the implication. Of course they hadn't reached her in time... "These foreigners say they're here to help with our outbreak of plague... Funny thing, though, Kallian. All the people they 'help'... well, they just seem to _disappear_."

"My father among them," Kallian whispered.

"He _wasn't _sick, though," Shianni insisted. "There's something going on here, they just won't let anyone in..."

Serena surveyed the building, her eyes resting on the large barred doors. "And this is the quarantined area?"

Shianni glanced over her shoulder at the imposing structure. "It's the largest building in the Alienage, so they converted it into a quarantine zone for the plague victims. It's supposedly an infirmary, too, to cure them with their spell." She said the last bit with a thick layer of sarcasm.

Wynne stepped forward. "Did they mention where the plague started from?"

"From the Blight, you know, coming up from the south." Shianni shrugged. "That's what they _say_, anyway. People started getting it after the refugees showed up from Ostagar, so I guess that makes sense." Another shrug. "These men from Tevinter say their magic will prevent people from catching it. But it doesn't work if you're already ill. So they set up a quarantine."

"Sounds more like a hospice to me," Alim murmured.

"And I've never heard of any spell that could protect from Blight sickness," Morrigan added, her yellow eyes hooded.

"See? And some of the elves they quarantined weren't even sick!" Shianni pursed her lips in agitation, throwing the large building another distrustful look. "One of them was our hahren, Valendrian. I don't know what we're going to do if we don't get him back."

"Is your hahren like a Keeper?" Serena asked.

"Keepers are mages, really," Kallian replied. "But they are the leaders of the Dalish tribes, and Valendrian... he is the leader of this Alienage, and our voice to the outside world. Without him, we are mute."

"So we'll take a look around, and see if we can't get Valendrian and the others out then," Serena managed.

Shianni scoffed, as if Serena were being purposefully foolhardy. Though Alim had to admit she was often... inordinately optimistic, things did always seem work out one way or another for her. He thought back to their adventures in the Deep Roads, and how if he honestly thought about it, they should all be dead. "If it were that easy to get in, I'd have done myself already."

"Through the back then?"

There was a long pause, where the outspoken elven woman appeared thoughtful. "There _is_ another entrance in the alley... There's no crowd watching, no mages, and only one guard." She shrugged. "You could try it, at least." She lowered her voice, leaning in towards Serena and Kallian. "Be careful though. Those guards mean business." With a final nod to the group, Shianni drifted away again. Alim thought perhaps she would try to keep up the attention in the front, to ease their time in sneaking in the back.

Quickly enough however, Alim saw Serena realized their group was far too large to move stealthily throughout the Alienage without attracting a lot of attention. Scrutinizing the group carefully, and with more than a little bit of insistence on Kallian's part, she decided to bring Alim, Wynne, Kallian and Zevran in her group to scout out the quarantined building while Alistair and his group would attempt to enter through another building on the opposite side.

Sten would stand guard outside, acting as one terrifying lookout and making sure no one came in after them once Kallian had bribed the elven guard who originally took the post with a bit of coin.

"I could have just put him to sleep, you know," Alim whispered, twiddling his fingers. "It's a simple spell. Then you wouldn't have lost that coin."

Kallian smiled fiercely, tapping her coin purse lightly. The coins inside, though considerably less now, jangled softly. "Thought you ought to save your hocus pocus for the inside situation, assuming there is one. Besides, that coin was stolen off that wretch of a human, Vaughan, so I have no qualms giving it away."

"If you took it off Vaughan, it's probably tainted anyway," Serena muttered. One of her hair pins was out as she worked it in the lock. The guard had taken their coin, but he had refused to open the door for them. "That man, what little I knew of him, was nearly as bad as Howe." Her voice dropped conspiratorially. "Given time, perhaps..."

"Did you take anything of that swine?" Kallian asked. "I would have looted everything not bolted down. Even his fillings wouldn't be safe."

Serena shrugged, her fingers still working the tumblers of the seemingly complicated lock. Alim contemplated offering to freeze the lock to help, but thought maybe she enjoyed doing things with her hands. Serena appeared to have some nervous energy she needed to burn off. "Fergus and I... we took his life, and avenged our parents. That's enough, I think."

"For _now_," Wynne added archly.

At that, Serena shot her a look Alim would have quelled under, her blue eyes were so icy and sharp in that moment. Ever the teacher, Wynne simply held her gaze steadily, one delicate white eyebrow raised. The two women stood there for a long moment, the challenge, the accusation, was unmistakable. The three elves stood slightly apart, two wearing faces of varying degrees of shock or surprise. Zevran, however, was frowning, her own amber eyes narrowed at the white haired mage.

Serena's voice was lower when she spoke next, barely a whisper. "He's gone. It's finished."

"As long as it doesn't come up at some inopportune time, Serena. Emotions are tricky things, almost like spells, really, and I mean only to caution you-"

Zevran's frowned deepened, and he stepped forward, between the two women. One hand was held out, a gesture clearing saying stop. "It's _done_, Wynne." Serena sent Zevran a grateful smile and the two, with Kallian, slipped into the now unlocked door, weapons out.

"I did not mean to imply she would-" Wynne began again.

Alim placed a hand on her arm, squeezing it, though not necessarily what he would consider in a reassuring way. "I would not venture to explain to Serena what you may have meant to imply, Wynne. She is dealing with quite a lot right now, not to mention we have a plague to get to the bottom of."

"You are... you are right. Thank you, Alim."

"Anytime." Alim gave a quick nod of his spiky head before slipping into the building after the others.


	76. Chapter 76

**Author's Note:** And after a six month hiatus, _Tricking the Past_ is back, and just in time for the one year anniversary of the story! Here's a super-sized chapter as my way of saying thanks to everyone who has continued to read and comment and support the story! You guys are wonderful.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 76<span>- _The Blind Templar_

"The... feeling... is intense here. This is the right place. It comes from here."

Alistair often wondered how he ended up in these situations. Had Serena been leading them, it would have been obvious- she could never not help someone, especially if the someone in question had been a templar, and a blind one at that. But he couldn't have turned the man away when he'd asked to accompany them, and he _was_ heading into the same building Serena had directed them to... If Alistair looked at it the right way, it was really killing two birds with one stone.

Looking over, Alistair spotted the man, Ser Otto, slowing making his way through the room, his sword drawn. He held it strangely, though, as if it could also be used as a divining rod, while his other hand grasped gently at the open air before him. His pale, glassy eyes scanned the room evenly, as if he could see. "I know not if it's the work of maleficarum, but there is definitely evil here."

"Oh, well, general evil we're well versed in," Alistair mumbled. "Darkspawn, dragons, abominations... the list goes on quite a bit, really."

Next to the templar, Leliana was shooting him worried glances every few seconds, her blue eyes flicking from the templar's sword tip to Alistair as if to ask 'Should I just leave him be?'

He nodded, adding a slight shrug, as he kept pace between Morrigan and Oghren. A bevy of apparitions passed through just then, children by the sound of their high pitched calls and small spectral forms. Oghren grunted, his face set in a firm line. "Don't see why we couldn't all go in the back way. This place gives me the creeps. And it smells funny."

"I'm sure it's not the puddles of blood on the floor that do it?" Alistair joked. "Besides, you're one to talk about smelling funny..."

"Be wary, idiots," Morrigan muttered testily, her eyes focused on the wall the ghosts had just run through. "'Tis more than mere spirits roaming these halls."

"Demons," called the clear voice of the templar from beside him. Alistair tried not to flinch. The man's unnerving appearance aside, he hadn't even heard him come up. "They are attracted to maleficarum, of course."

Alistair frowned. "I thought you said you'd found no evidence of maleficars in the Alienage, though?"

"They can also be attracted to places who have seen many sorrows," Leliana said quietly. "Places that have known great injustices... You said this was an orphanage once?"

"It looks like it hasn't been used as anything resembling a home for children in ages."

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "And what was your first clue to that, Alistair? The broken furniture, perhaps? Or maybe the acrid smell of decay?"

Alistair opened his mouth to retort but before he could Ser Otto stepped between the two of them, his eyes strangely focused. "Listen!"

It was a child's voice, singing softly. The sound appeared to come from the ceiling, the walls, everywhere.

"_Do you hear me, Ser Wilhem, Ser Wilhem? I'm a falling, Ser Wilhem, Ser Wilhem, today. I'm a maiden, Ser Wilhem, Ser Wilhem. But I'm dying, Ser Wilhem, Ser Wilhem, in pain_."

There was a long silence then and Alistair thought he could have put his sword right through, it was that thick.

Rubbing his temples, he sighed. "I hate ghosts."

* * *

><p>Serena didn't know what she had been expecting inside the quarantined building. The sick, definitely. The dying, perhaps. She certainly hadn't been expecting to uncover an apparently thriving slave trade. And she definitely hadn't been expecting the Crown to back it.<p>

How far gone was Loghain that he would sell his own countrymen to Tevinter slavers? And did Anora know of this? Is that how she had been able to tip them off to the 'unrest' in the Alienage? Was she secretly behind it? Or was she in league with her father? Serena's face pinched up in disgust as her mind churned with questions that had no immediate answers.

"Shianni was right! I can't believe they're selling us as _slaves_..." Kallian dropped to her knees beside one of the fallen Tevinter mages, this one an elf. She had her short-handled blade in one hand, the blade dangerously close. "And by our own people... I ought to cut her ears off!"

They had already been through three rooms filled with various soldiers and mages, each set with more information on the ongoing slave trade. Three rooms, and still no sign of Alistair and the others. Surely they would meet up with them before long? How winding could these corridors be, really? Serena sent up a silent prayer to the Maker to protect her friends, wherever they were right now. She certainly had learned her lesson about splitting up...

Nearby, Zevran raided the corpses of the other guards, most of them human. "The jingle of coin is a sound that many will dance to, my dear. It is a hard lesson to learn perhaps, but a necessary one."

"This Devera woman isn't the top of the food chain here, either, I'll bet," Alim said thoughtfully. He eyed the bodies carefully, his dark orbs lingering on the symbol that adorned the robes of the dead. "Tevinter is a magocracy. Ferelden has never allowed slavery under Therein rule... They wouldn't have left this up to just anyone." He locked eyes with Serena and she knew he was thinking the same thing. They hadn't met the leader of this little gang, not yet.

"Well, I'll cut his bloody ears off, too, then!" Kallian snapped. Serena grimaced as the blonde dropped the tops of the mages' ears casually onto the ground, kicking them away with her boot. She saw Wynne about to open her mouth, likely to protest the brutality, but Serena shot her a look that clearly read 'don't you dare lecture her'. Looking much like a fish out of water, Wynne gaped a few times before snapping her mouth closed.

"I agree with Alim," Zevran said, his looting finished. His gaze fell dispassionately upon the carved up dead, as if he'd seen much worse in his time before standing up. "We have yet to meet the mastermind behind this grand endeavor." Gliding gracefully over to the large wooden door beyond he gestured grandly. "Shall we see what's behind door number three?"

Falling into the familiar rountine, Serena pulled her bow in advance, ready to skewer the next foe who dared come at them. Zevran flung the door wide, opening it out onto a wide balcony. Below the overhang a small knot of mages, each wearing the medallion that noted them as enchanters of the Circle of Tevinter, stood speaking in vehement whispers. Behind them, a group of terrified elves stood huddled in a floor cage, the same one would use to shelter a mabari, each chained to the next by a large metal shackle.

"Father!" Kallian cried, her short sword already in hand. A solid stream of curses followed and Serena heard Zevran sigh wistfully.

"So goes our element of surprise..."

"We do so much better when we just brute force our way in anyway, Zev," Serena murmured, letting her arrow fly.

The assassin flashed a spectacular smile before pulling his own twin blades. "Truer words, my dear."

* * *

><p>"You know, after some careful consideration, I'll take the ghosts after all."<p>

Alistair rocked back on his heels as the demon pelted him with flaming debris, Duncan's shield barely protecting him from the searing heat of the onslaught. His templar senses were going wild as more demons slipped through the gaping hole in the Veil.

"Of course the one time we _don't_ bring our mages..."

"And what am I?" Morrigan snapped. "A talking swine?" She raised her staff high as a magical blizzard started to engulf the room in cold white flurries.

"Too easy," Alistair muttered, forcing himself to instead focus on the freezing ghouls. Using her spell as a distraction, he charged the nearest group of demons and crushed them beneath his shield. There was the sound of maniacal laughter again as the demons collapsed and the ghost of a woman appeared shimmering before them.

"So red. So very, very red... But tasty, so good..."

Morrigan fired another spell that seemed to bounce off this new apparition as Alistair cleaved Maric's sword straight through its' middle.

"I can't die!" it cried. "I will never die!" Quick as it had appeared, the spirit evaporated into thin air, it's haunting cackle hanging in the air.

Ser Otto kneeled down at the dark scorch mark near Alistair, his head bowed as he quietly prayed. "Steady is my hand as I am guided by the Maker. Help us to solve this mystery and set this place to peace. Amen."

The eerie, almost sinister feeling had settled now in his gut, and Alistair found himself wishing more than anything that Serena were beside him. Surely this little quest was nearing an end? How many rooms could an orphanage have? Though the better question it seemed was how many demons could it hold?

* * *

><p>The arrow flew true, landing in the chest of one of the mages, dropping him to the ground. Well, that made brought it down to four mages, Serena mused. Below, there was a loud crack as the remaining mages threw up spell shields to block any more stray arrows.<p>

"Might I hazard a guess that the bald one is in charge?" Zevran murmured. "He looks to be the most grizzled of the lot."

"Ah, you must be the Grey Warden. I am... Caladrius." The tall bald man smiled from behind a shimmering blue shield, his dark goatee twisting. "I have heard a great deal about you and... your friends."

Serena raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You've heard of me? Us?" She glanced sidelong at Zevran. "You hear that? We're famous."

"One can hardly get a word out of Regent Loghain besides 'Warden' these days, you know. It surpassed even "gold" in popularity." There was an artful pause as the man, Caladrius, seemed to consider something. "I have heard that you are trying to erode Loghain's support. It must be a difficult task, yes? Like washing away a mountain."

Serena shrugged, another arrow slowly making its way from her quiver to her bow. The mages arcane shield shimmered softly in the air, as if to remind Serena that her arrows wouldn't strike them so easily again. "Oh, it's not so difficult when he implicates himself so easy in the Tevinter slave trade."

"And wouldn't it be even easier with a bit of help?" Caladrius replied smoothly.

Kallian spat. "Help from a slaver? Could it get more insulting?"

"Your dead lackey said you had an agreement with Loghain?" Serena asked.

"Oh, I see Devera has been telling secrets." Caladrius sighed. "It was more like an arrangement, truth be told. One that disappears the moment angry, armed intruders storm my abode. There was always a limit to how long we were going to be able to operate here." Caladrius sighed, as if this was truly a hardship on him to leave. "We've paid for many of Loghain's troops, but once the Landsmeet is done we shall become decidedly... inconvenient, I would imagine."

"This isn't your abode!" Kallian stormed suddenly, stepping to the edge of the balcony. Her face was flushed with anger as her slight frame nearly trembled with compressed rage. She raised her short sword, practically shaking it at the mage in defiance. "You filthy-"

Exchanging a quick glance with Serena, Zevran slid forward easily, his hand slipping over Kallian's mouth, muffling her curses.

"You could use a few lessons in tact, my dear," the assassin muttered ruefully.

With a satisfied look at the two blonde elves, Caladrius continued. "So... here is my offer: one hundred sovereigns from you for a letter with the seal of the Teyrn of Gwaren upon it, implicating him in all of... _this_. Then we leave a few days earlier than planned, with our profits and remaining slaves, unharmed." There was another pause and Serena had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "So do we have a deal? Even you must admit it's much better than resorting to barbarism, yes?"

Serena wanted to laugh. "Let me make sure I have this straight..." she said slowly. "_I_ pay... pay _you_ for a... a _letter_, while you... leave free and clear, with this woman's _friends_ and _family_." She nocked the arrow and aimed. "I think... not. I'd rather just loot any evidence I'd need from your slowly decaying corpse."

The mage clucked his tongue, his eyes rolling to the ceiling for a brief moment. "A pity, that. You seemed like such a pragmatic girl." Caladrius pulled his staff, his eyes taking on a hard look. "It looks as if we shall have to settle this the hard way, then. My apologies."

Whipping the staff around quicker than the eye could follow, a spell erupted from the tip and Serena just got a shot off as the balcony began to quake below them. There was a loud groan of wood splitting, and Serena heard Kallian shriek in fury as the overhang collapsed beneath them.

* * *

><p>"This. <em>This<em> is the center of it." The templar stood in the center of the room, one hand pressing the air. This room was covered in blood so thick it made Alistair's boots produce sticky _slop-slop-slop_ noises as he walked. Another two ghost filled corridors had awaited them, and Alistair couldn't wait until they finally found their way out of this maze of horrors. Every door seemed to lead to another dead-end, though it didn't stop Ser Otto's endless positivity that the heart of the problem was always near. They had been in "the center of it, surely" 3 times now.

"_Leave, mortal, you do not belong here!_"

"Blessed be the Maker and His prophet Andraste-" Ser Otto began, his voice rising clearly. Alistair surmised this was not the first time the templar had tried to talk down a demon, though it did not appear to be working very well. At least we finally found one, Alistair thought miserably. It was something semi-solid, at least; something that he could put a sword through, instead of those infernal apparitions that did nothing but taunt.

"_Your pathetic Maker is **nothing** compared to **my** glory!_"

Alistair rolled his eyes. Demons. They really never did get the point, did they? He swiftly downed one of the potions Morrigan had handed him. He'd need to prepare a holy smite for this nuisance.

Nearby the blind templar held his weapon aloft, as one would a staff. Righteous fury seemed to radiate out from him in waves. "I command you: show yourself, demon! Hide in the shadows no more!"

Morrigan readied her staff, her eyebrows furrowed contentiously. "Oh yes, let us command the demon, shall we? Let us see where that gets us."

Chancing a glance in the witch's direction, Alistair smiled wryily. "For once, we agree."

As if on cue, the demonic voice swelled to a sharp, almost keening wail.

"_You **dare** to command **me**? Let us see if your precious Maker can protect you now, worm!_"

No longer content to stay invisible and taunt them with words, the fire demon rose up through the wooden floorboards, nearly as tall as the ceiling, and loomed over their group. Leliana pulled her bow, readying an icy arrow to send up as they heard Oghren call out.

"You blighting-!"

Alistair raised his shield as a bevy of demonic shades seeped in, filling the room with smoke, ash, and chaos. So much for an easy way out.

* * *

><p>Her arm was broken. That was for sure. Despite the seriousness of the moment, Serena couldn't help the sigh that escaped her as she lamented another broken bone. Were there any left in her body that hadn't suffered some slight or crack over the last few months? And to think they still had an archdemon to kill...<p>

Touching a hand to her face, she felt a thick layer of dusty ash from the ruined balcony coat her glove. Plaster and bits of wood were still settling down around her, the air thick from spell-light and rubble. Where were the others? She could hear them, just barely. Zevran was cursing in Antivan... and a barely audible whispering that had to be Alim was coming from behind her. But where was Wynne? And Kallian? And- _oh_. She winced as her arm protested the too-quick movement. Alright, so no sudden movements, then.

"Wynne?" she whispered, trying to keep her voice as low as possible. Who knew what, or who, was nearby with all this dust and debris. It felt like half the building had collapsed upon them. "Wynne...?"

"Here, dear," the older woman muttered, equally quiet. "Don't move now, we need to set that arm to rights." She placed a surprisingly cool hand on Serena's forehead briefly. Her staff was out, aimed in the direction the group of mages had been standing.

Wynne's healing magic was ever present then, bathing her, and probably the others to some extent, in its soft, bluish light. There was a slight popping sound as Serena's elbow seemed to snap back into place while she desperately searched for her bow with her working arm. Some of the others must have gotten up from the fall already, she surmised. She could hear Alim murmuring spells nearby, one to disorient the mages, she hoped, as they were at a desperate disadvantage.

The touch was quick and then Wynne was moving away again, presumably to help Kallian, who Serena still hadn't heard yet.

Suddenly a woman's angry voice erupted from nearby. Grabbing a dagger, Serena held her breath as she ducked behind a broken bit of wood.

"Oh, what a wonderful spell, Aelinius! Next time why don't you have the whole building come down upon our heads?"

"I didn't think it would have that much power!" whined another mage. Squinting, Serena could just see a black mop of hair emerge from the top of a downed pillar. "Besides, it did the trick, didn't it? They're dead!"

"Fool!" barked Caladrius. "Until I see the body of the Grey Warden at my feet, I'll believe you did nothing but ruin our cover here." There was another shout and thump as Serena crouched low, hoping to disappear into the wreckage.

Dropping onto her knees, Serena crawled past them. She was determined to find Alim or Zevran. If she could get one of them onto the other side they could trap them, or if-

"Oh, well, if it isn't the big, bad Grey Warden. Where do you think you're going?" Serena felt the neck of her armor tighten uncomfortably as she was suddenly hauled to her feet, the dagger in her hand concealed up her sleeve. A swarthy looking man, as thick as a tree, held her just off the ground, his smile showing what seemed to be an endless parade of perfect white teeth. "Who knew such a tiny girl could cause such a ruckus?"

His fist moved up, surprisingly quick for such an enormous man, grabbing Serena by the throat. She kicked out desperately then, her boots trying to connect with any part of the large man she could manage to hit. She sputtered, he was choking her.

Why did they always try to choke her? she thought desperately. Was it because she was a girl? _Alistair_ never got choked-

"You don't seem to be making much of a problem for me, though, sweetness," the man cooed. Serena's eyes swam as his dark eyes filled her field of vision, the edges already turning to black. "The last of the Grey Wardens. What a pity."

"She is not the last," a cold, penetrating voice said. It was a moment that seemed to stretch much longer as Alim's dark head appeared behind the dusky man. The hand at her throat released, dropping Serena to the ground where she spluttered and clutched at her neck, rubbing the sensitive skin there.

A moment later, the large man swooned, his huge body thumping to the ground. Beside him, Alim flexed his fingers, the pinkish-orange light Serena had come to associate with his life draining spell seemed to hover about him.

"Thank you. That was... a bit too close for comfort." Quickly, Serena slid her dagger across the fallen mage's neck, his blood spurting forth across the blade. "And for good measure."

"It is always good to be sure," Alim replied, his hand reaching out to pull Serena to her feet. "I think Zevran has made rather short work of the others, if the cessation of screams are any indication."

* * *

><p>Alistair was immediately engaged with two of the fiends, flames licking across his armor as nearby Oghren battled two more demons, spewing an seemingly endless stream of curses and slights. Moving to better block Ser Otto's open side, he felt a rush of air as the templar released a holy smite himself, knocking everyone but himself within a 10 foot radius on their backs.<p>

"_Superb_," Alistair muttered grimly, shaking the effects of the magic off. "Next time we do that, Ser Otto, how about we let our spell-caster know, eh? Maybe a little heads-up is in order so we don't-" He ducked suddenly as Oghren heaved his giant great sword just past his head.

"Less talkin', more killin', junior!" the dwarf called as he slammed his squat body into another demon.

"I- Well... shut up!" Grimacing, he swung his shield to block the oncoming claws from a risen corpse.

"Your comebacks, Alistair," Morrigan retorted. "They _burn_." He could practically hear her sneer from here. Her face lit up suddenly, a spell orbing in her hand. Well, at least she had been out of the range of the smite, he thought. "Surely that tiny brain of yours could come up with something better than that?"

Alistair could feel his cheeks redden as he sliced his father's sword through a shade, this one composed of ash. "I am _engaged_, currently, if you hadn't noticed, Morrigan! I don't have time to banter uselessly with you."

"It hasn't stopped you before from opening that fat mouth," Morrigan replied. "I'm sure Serena wouldn't be so delighted to hear that you've chosen another, Alistair." Beside her, Leliana took down two more shades with a well placed arrow, her red hair bobbing about the darkened room.

"But I... we- what? I mean..." Alistair spluttered uselessly. He gulped, his eyes slipping to his boots as Leliana laughed. There was a long pause as the noise died down once again, the fiends finally defeated.

"What?" The witch paused, her golden eyes going wide as recognition filled their depths. "You- oh, blast. She didn't agree to _marry_ you, did she?" Morrigan sighed, slamming her staff through the frozen head of one of the undead. "And I thought she could stoop no lower..."

Oghren laughed. "This bastard-" he turned to Alistair, clapping him on the back, "No offense boy, but a rock is a rock, isn't it? Anyway, this bastard is going to be king! Legs can't really do much better, can she?"

"Your point, as always, is most offensive, dwarf." Morrigan grimaced, lip curling. "Much like your _smell_."

* * *

><p>"Enough!" roared Caladrius. Zevran's short sword was at his throat as the mage leaned heavily on one knee, his head bowed. Beside the bald mage, the bodies of his companions were strewn about, a pool of blood seeping out from beneath.<p>

Alim had been right. The elf had been very busy in the chaos following the balcony collapse. It would seem the magic users were no match for one of the deadly Antivan Crows. Serena once again thanked the Maker Zevran was on their side.

"Enough," the mage repeated, his voice sounding more defeated this time. "It... it seems your reputation is an accurate one. I surrender."

"As if you had much choice," Kallian spat, coming up on Serena's right. She had a dark bruise already forming on her cheek. A souvenir from the fall or the battle, Serena couldn't tell. "We ought to let my kin out, have them deal some old fashioned justice on his filthy bald head."

"Wait! Wait. Please, here me out, dear lady." Caladrius's dark eyes swiveled from Serena to Kallian and back again. "_Ladies_. Please. Were I to... use the life force of the remaining slaves. I could augment your physical power a great deal! Imagine it! Never having to be weaker than a man... Allow me to leave this place alive, and I would be more than happy to do this little service for you. For both of you."

"'Little service?'" Wynne squawked. Her normally pale skin was botched with red. "He is talking of blood magic! Surely you would not consider such a thing?"

Serena rolled her eyes. Did the woman really think so little of her? She was about to say so when Alim spoke up.

"Serena would never do such a thing. The Grey Wardens would never fall into blood magic in order to gain an upper hand."

"And here I'd hoped she wouldn't do it because it would involve murdering the rest of my family," Kallian muttered sardonically.

The mage coughed, bringing their divided attention back to him. "I don't suppose you would consider just letting me go, then? A show of good will from the Wardens, perhaps?"

"After this wonderful show of good will from the Tevinter Imperium?" Serena raised an eyebrow, her dagger swiftly finding its home in his gut. "I wouldn't bet on it."

* * *

><p>"We... we won, didn't we?" Otto looked about, his strange, almost blank eyes wandered around the room before finally settling on Alistair's clear honey-colored ones. "At one time, I considered myself quite the warrior, but you accomplished here what I never could... But something still isn't right. I feel there is more to this. Nearby. The building next to us."<p>

"The quarantine?"

"I can feel it," Otto repeated. "Just on the other side of this wall."

Behind the back of the templar, Alistair rolled his eyes. He wouldn't call himself a patient man by any means, but he was becoming quite tired of Ser Otto's 'feelings' about demons and things. Demons weren't really a sneaky lot, he thought. Maybe it was the pungent smell in this place that was getting to him. It reminded him so much of the mage's tower, where of course there had been plenty of demons to go around…

As they moved closer to the door, however, he suddenly heard voices. "Are you sure that's demons? It sounds like people-" Namely, people he recognized.

"Alistair? Oh, Alistair! Leliana! Zevran, Alim, they're over here!" There was a squeal of delight as Serena barreled into him from the side, her armor pushing up against his. "We've been looking all over for you lot. I thought you would have met up with us inside by now!"

"We got a little side tracked," Alistair said evenly. "What with all the ghosts and abominations running around this place. We, er, had a few run-ins, I'm afraid." He tilted his head slightly, indicating they ought to look at his shield. The Grey Warden emblem on it was almost completely obscured by scorch marks.

Eyeing the shield with interest, Zevran raised one delicate blonde eyebrow. "You all do seem a bit toasty, if you don't mind me saying so, my friend."

"You all seem a bit dusty, if you don't mind me saying so," Alistair replied. "What is that? You look like a whole building came down on you."

"Funny you should mention that. It just about did." Serena rubbed her temples, mentally willing off the slow rumblings of a headache. "_We_ had a run in with some Tevinter slavers."

"Slavers?" Leliana exclaimed. "Here? In Denerim?" The redhead's large blue eyes went wide as Alistair let out low whistle of astonishment. "In the capital… who would have thought?"

Serena shrugged. "Regent Loghain has been very busy, it would seem."

"Busy selling off our brothers and sisters to the highest paying magister," Alim added hotly, moving away from his whispered conversation with Morrigan to join the others. His normally pale cheeks were swiftly turning red with barely concealed rage, making his already odd appearance look rather menacing.

"Kallian and Wynne are seeing to those we rescued back at Kallian's house, but Alim thought we ought to look for you all." Serena brushed off her black armor , frowning at the mess. "And I just took a bath," she lamented sadly.

"I don't suppose you and your two companions would care to join us, m'lady?" Ser Otto asked, bending gracefully into a formal bow. His strange blank eyes stared past them, appearing to focus on whatever he had 'felt' in the building beyond. "I am Ser Otto, and your friends here have vowed to help me cleanse this place. We seek to end this terrible entity that has escaped the Fade, once and for all."

"Ah... yes, of course." She glanced at the others in confusion, taking in their exhausted faces. "I... I suppose we should finish what you all started."

"The Maker truly blessed me the day he brought you all to me, dear lady." The blind templar put his hand to the door, his eyes closed in thought. "Just in here now. Beyond this... beyond this-"

"That's called a door," Oghren grumbled. Pulling bits of ash out of his beard, the dwarf looked more than a little annoyed at this now continuing side adventure. "I've had my share of ghosts and ghoulies today, I think."

"You're not scared, Oghren, are you?" Alistair teased. "Had a few demons too many today?"

The dwarf frowned, his thick beard wrinkling. "I've had a bit too much of your mouth, pup, I'll tell you that. Your non-stop jabbering-"

"Are we going to open the door or not?" Morrigan said, her boot tapping impatiently. "'T'would I have known I'd have to listen to this childish back-and-forth all day I'd have stayed back with the flea-bitten hound."

Alistair rolled his eyes. "Remind me next time to tell you in advance that I'll be prattling about. I'm sure Sten would love to have you, too." He shot a significant look to Alim, as if to hammer the point home.

"If perhaps we could continue," Serena prompted, pulling her daggers. This was not the time for an argument to break out Alistair and Morrigan. "Guys, look. We're all tired and a bit on edge. Let's just finish this." She turned to Ser Otto, gesturing to him to go first before she seemed to remember the man could not see her. "I… Ser Otto? Yes, let's go." With a heavy sigh, she pulled the door open.

And felt heat blast her face.


	77. Chapter 77

**Author's Note**: Thanks to those of you taking the time to review! It is _very_ good to be back, and I'm absolutely overjoyed that so many of you have returned as well. _Tricking the Past_ wouldn't be what it is without your continued support.

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><p><span>Chapter 77<span> – _The Light in the Darkness_

It was blistering, the heat. It felt like flames were licking across her body as she threw up her arms to protect her face, reminding her of her time in the Fade. They had been trapped in a part of the Fade, a product… no, a domain of the Sloth demon. She had been a being composed of pure fire then, but now… now it was fading. The feeling, the fire... the room before them was now pitch black.

"What just happened?"

"Ghosts, demons, take your pick, really." Alistair came up beside her, his eyes squinting in the gloom. "If I have it timed right, Ser Otto should-"

"Though the Golden City has fallen, I have seen your face and your light, I am your-" Ser Otto abruptly stopped just as a deeper, booming voice filled the room.

"_Save your pedantic Chant for your sermons, templar. You have killed my brood_."

"-start praying," Alistair finished lamely. "Though the demon sort of stole my thunder there just a bit." He pulled Maric's sword from its sheath, the soft blue glow was the only light source beyond the pale sliver of sun that slipped in the doorway. The day was passing quickly despite the slow progress they were making.

"Like clockwork, isn't it?" Serena pulled her daggers, her eyes shifting around the room, searching for the source of the sound. "Well, I know just how to handle demons. Alim, Morrigan, ready your spells. Leliana, toss me a few ice arrows, if you have any left-"

"The Maker compels you, show yourself, demon!" Ser Otto shouted into the darkness.

"Do we want that?" Alistair mumbled. "I feel like I'm quite happy with it not showing itself and us showing ourselves right out the door."

"We cannot allow this menace to fester in her any longer, Alistair," Leliana said gravely, her eyes locked on Ser Otto's back. "Besides, it will be much easier to hit if we can see it."

"Oh, I suppose you're right," Alistair said with a sigh. Walking up to the nearest wall he banged his shield against it. "Well, you heard the man, demon. The Maker compels you. Come on out and we'll have ourselves a dance!"

"_The Maker? There is no Maker! There is no Golden City!_" The demonic voice shouted back. "_But there are demons, oh yessss_..."

"I hear not your blasphemy!" Ser Otto replied, waving a hand in the air as if to swipe away the demon's callous remarks. "By Andraste and all the Divine after Her, I order you to face me!"

"_You delusional fools!_" There was another burst of heat and smoke as flames erupted along the floorboards, causing them all to jump back. "_Call upon your fake gods and prophets! Perhaps they shall bring you comfort when my brethren gobble your bones!_"

"And the Voice of the Maker shook the Fade saying: In My image I have wrought My firstborn. You have been given dominion over all that exists." Serena knocked an arrow in her bow, aiming at the center of the flames, her voice carrying clearly over the demonic din. Alistair could see the fire reflected in her eyes as she recited the Chant of Light. "By your will, all things are done. _And yet you do_ _nothing!_"

It was an taunt. A taunt to the demons, to come, to show themselves, to fight.

And then claws came from the fire, and a wrath demon formed. Wrapped in fire, it stretched and grew until it reached the ceiling, the wood of the floor cracking beneath it.

"_No mortal can defy me!_" The demon screeched, smoke bellowing from its mouth. It struck quickly, his claws swiping out as Serena and Leliana peppered it with arrows, the icy ones sizzling as they met its hot exterior.

The demon flailed, swinging its arms about. The enormous room was complete chaos as Serena and the others fought viciously against the rest of the demon's brood. The tear in the Veil was open, and shades slipped through in an steady stream, grasping, clawing their way into the fray.

Stepping quickly, Serena abandoned her bow in favor of her silverite daggers and met the fiery wrath head-on. It was unlike the sloth demon in the Fade, or any darkspawn ogre, though it was nearly as large as one. Its flaming body was its own protection, making any attack look more like a dance than anything resembling a normal fight.

"_Twirl about, fool_," the demon mocked, swiping carelessly. "_You cannot defeat-_"

Digging her dagger deep, Serena screamed as the flames licked up her armor to her face, her skin burning as she twisted the dagger in what she hoped was the fiend's chest.

There was a great shuddering beneath her, like an earthquake shaking her entire being, and then she was falling. Serena's body landed hard on the blackened floorboards as the demon collapsed completely, the fire going out.

All around her, ashy wraths exploded in bursts of smoke, as if most of their power was supplanted from the defeat of the wrath demon. There was a long pause as the quiet of the moment sunk in for them.

Sweaty and drained, Serena pulled herself to her feet, her neck aching from the burn the demon had given her.

"Morrigan, I hate to ask but if you have a balm… or… or anything?" Serena stepped over to the witch, pulling her braid away from her neck to expose the injury. "Normally I would see if Wynne-"

"'Tis nothing, Serena," the raven-haired woman replied, swiftly placing a cool hand on Serena's burn. Serena could feel the chill sink into her flesh, soothing the heated skin there. "As I told you long ago, though I am no healer, I am equipped to handle smaller… contusions and the like."

"We have done it again," Ser Otto said quietly. "I... I feel the darkness receding once more." His blank eyes stared up and out, into the darkness, as if instead of being programmed to see trees and flowers, he saw only what lied beyond the Veil. "I've seen the work of demons before, however. Some maleficarium consort with them-"

"Let us not mention these phantom maleficarium again, templar," Morrigan muttered, her golden eyes rolling to the ceiling as she continued to rub healing balm on Serena's injured neck.

"But the Maker must have guided- _guppt_." There was a sickening_ thuck _sound, like someone punching through something thick and wet, and Serena felt her stomach drop out.

"_Now you die!_"

The shock barely had time to ripple through her as they watched, frozen in horror, as the templar dropped to his knees before them, clutching the trident that now pierced him through.

"No!" bellowed Alistair, his voice breaking through their paralysis. Thrusting his blade forward in one smooth action, Alistair let out another roar of pain and frustration as he skewered the returned demon on the end. There was a long, low hiss as the demon caved into itself before them.

"Morrigan, Alim, someone, please!" Serena dropped to her knees beside the fallen templar, her arm snaking beneath his head. "Please, is there... is there anything we can...?" Her eyes pricked with unshed tears as she felt Otto's blood drain out of his already pale skin and pool beneath them. "He's... he's..."

"He rests at the Maker's hand now, Serena," Leliana said softly. Grasping her other hand, the redhead prompted her to repeat the words of the Chant with her. "_Blessed are the righteous, the lights in shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written_."

"He was a good man," Serena choked out. "We should take him to the Chantry, they... they'll know what to do with-"

"We will take him," Zevran said. "Seeing how yours and Alistair's faces are still pinned up around Denerim." A silent exchange passed between him ans Leliana as they stood as one, lifting the body of the the broken Ser Otto between them.

"He is much lighter than I would have thought," Leliana whispered.

Zevran nodded, unusually solemn. "The dead always are, my dear."

* * *

><p>The Alienage had been just as emotionally draining as it had been physically. Though they'd gotten the rest of the elves safely out of the slavers den, the bout with demons Alistair and others had been engaged in had shaken them all quite a bit.<p>

Serena was exhausted. She had been riding out what seemed like a near constant wave of nausea all day. They'd had a small funeral for Ser Otto, the blind templar who had insisted on their help, at the Chantry just that morning. Besides Serena's group, it was attended by many of the sisters of the Chantry, some more templars, who gave sidelong glances to Alistair throughout the ceremony, and even some of the older elves, like Kallian's father, Cyrion.

Despite the tranquilizing words of the Chant of Light during the ceremony, Serena still felt uneasy. The man had come to them for assistance, and in exchange, they'd gotten him killed. It had been an accident, of course, but there had been so many deaths, and so many of them stemmed from Loghain.

Rubbing her temples, Serena laid back, frowning once again over the list she'd made earlier of the teynirs and bannorns they could count on to support Alistair in the Landsmeet. After speaking with Eamon late last night, he'd elected to call the Landsmeet as soon as possible, probably by the end of the week. Loghain's connection to the Tevinter slavers had been the last straw for the arl, it seemed. He wanted this civil war ended, and soon.

So Alistair could be king within days, she thought. Or, of course, they could all be tried and hanged for treason.

"Sovereign for your thoughts, dear lady," said a voice from behind her. Alistair was leaning in the doorway, his long frame looking surprisingly relaxed in the doublet and fancy breeches he wore. Picturing him in a crown wasn't so hard when he was outside of his armor.

"Keep your sovereigns, sweetheart. I saw you playing Diamondback with Zevran last night." Tapping the piece of parchment in front of her, Serena pulled out a chair for him. "I was just making a list, for the Landsmeet." Pushing it towards him, she ran her finger down the list. "Dragon's Peak, Waking Seas, South Reach… We have Highever and Redcliffe, of course. We need Western Hills, still, but Wulff is… he's a difficult man. Leliana is working on him. And Zevran tells me Ceorlic is basically in Loghain's pocket, so I don't think it would be wise to even try approaching _him_…"

"You forgot Rainesfere," Alistair said thoughtfully, picking up her quill. He scrawled the name of Bann Teagan's bannorn on the list in his tidy script, so different from Serena's big loopy letters. "Teagan _is_ my uncle… sort of. So that brings us to… six? Is that enough? To secure the vote?"

"I don't know. I hope so. With Anora's support, maybe. Assuming _that_ doesn't blow up in my face..." Serena sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. "It's too bad we can't just whisk you about, have you meet the arls and banns personally. Then they'd see what I see."

Alistair snorted. "And what is it you see?"

"I… I see a man who at first glance is like any man," Serena replied steadily. "A warrior, yes, but one with courage, and determination, and compassion. It shines out of your eyes, out of your soul, touching all of us." Serena placed her hand under Alistair's chin, her blue eyes burning into his. "You are the light in the darkness, Alistair. A second son of the blood, hidden away, and kept protected. A Warden in a time of Blight. You're just what Fereldan needs. This… this is your destiny."

"Oh, well, when you put it that way…" Alistair closed his eyes briefly, as if taking in everything she'd said. "I can't do this without you, Serena."

"Yes, you can," Serena insisted. "But if we're lucky, you won't have to."

* * *

><p>"She won't tell you, outright, Wynne. You <em>know<em> how Serena can be."

"Alistair, if you won't tell me what I'm meant to look for, I'm not sure how much use I can be." The older mage turned another page in her book, silently lamenting the lack of good wine at Eamon's estate. It had been a long few days.

"You saw her during the funeral," Alistair insisted, his face full of concern. "She was practically green. I heard her vomiting yesterday in the morning, too."

Wynne frowned, closing her copy of _The Search for the True Prophet, _her interest finally piqued. "She was vomiting?"

"The day before, too. Like dry heaving. She told me it was some eggs or something she'd had for breakfast, but come on. I've seen her drink some of that grog Oghren distills without even flinching. She's sick." Alistair leaned over the table, taking up nearly the whole thing himself, his voice conspiratorially low. "You don't think it's the… the taint, right?"

"I don't think it's the taint, no. I'm the one who treated her that night at Ostagar, remember? She doesn't appear to be sweating, though she does seem a bit paler." Wynne chewed on the end of her quill, her mouth pressed into a firm line. "I have an idea what it could be, but I ought to examine her, just to make sure."

"Well, let me know as soon as possible." As the mage got up to leave, Alistair quickly grabbed her arm, pulling her into a swift hug. "And thank you."

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry, but I'm... with... <em>what?<em>"

"Child," Wynne repeated. "You're with child. You are bearing, what I hope, is Alistair's and yours _child_. A baby." Wynne bit her lip in an effort to keep a straight face. In all the months she'd known Serena, she'd never seen the girl look so completely... bewildered. You'd think she'd told her she was going to have a newborn kitten come out of her in a few months. "I'd say you're perhaps seven or eight weeks along. Possibly nine."

"But how? How could I even-?" Serena bit her lip, her forehead wrinkling. "How could I even conceive?"

The older woman raised an eyebrow, unable to hold back her smirk any longer. "That part, I would assume, would be obvious, dear girl. Unless you're trying to tell me you have never..." She waved her hand in a vague circle indicating her disbelief.

"But I'm a _Warden_," Serena interrupted, plopping herself down on a nearby chair. "I… I don't think we can _have_ children."

"Because of the taint?"

Glumly, Serena nodded. "I won't ask how you know about that."

"I've been around for a good long while, Serena. I probably know a lot of things I shouldn't. And I've seen a lot more than I thought possible." Wynne placed a hand on Serena's, patting it tenderly. "You and Alistair have not been Wardens for so long. Not even a year for him, and what… only a few months for you, really. A child could still be possible." She smiled. "Well, obviously it's possible."

"I'm not saying this isn't… this is good news. I think this is good news?" Running her hands through her hair, she pulled on her braid, stress reading clearly. "We never even discussed the possibility of children."

"The Landsmeet is tomorrow," Wynne replied sagely. "You ought to tell Alistair soon."

"Oh, so he can fuss over me?" Serena looked down at her lap, or her belly, rather. Wynne could see the crease in her forehead deepen. "I don't know, Wynne… He has so much riding on his shoulders as it is."

"That's true. Though assuming things go the way we'd like them to, at least you won't have to worry about an heir. You'd have a bouncing baby Theirin to carry on the royal line."

"That's a big assumption," Serena said. Dropping her voice, despite their being alone, Serena squirmed forward in her seat, her face anxious. "What if… what if it's… tainted? The baby?"

Wynne shook her head. "You can't think like that, dear. It's a miracle, really. Imagine a child with two Wardens for parents… It's a gift from the Maker, perhaps."

"You're right. Of course you're right. The Maker has blessed us. _Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide_. I need to have faith." Serena stood, a hand absently rubbing her belly. "Thank you, Wynne. Is there something I should do? Food I should eat? Or not eat? I don't know anything about this, I'm afraid. Killing darkspawn and maiming dragons, that I can do. This… well..."

"There's a potion you should start taking once every seventh day, and I have a few herbs I could give you for the stomach upsets. As much as it pains me to say it, Morrigan probably has a more extensive knowledge of herbalism than I do, so if you feel comfortable, it wouldn't be a terrible idea to confide in her." Wynne pulled a small vial from a pouch attached to her belt. "This, every seventh day. Start tonight." The older woman rose slowly, smiling down at Serena like a proud grandmother. "And tell Alistair, you silly girl!"

"I know, I will." Serena bit her lip, looking up at the mage through thick lashes. "You wouldn't think something so small would have such a huge impact."

Wynne nodded. She knew that all too well. "Children are a special kind of magic in that way, dear."

* * *

><p>It was a surprisingly long walk up the palace steps the next day for Serena. Her feet felt weighed down, as if Peanut were sitting atop them, keeping her rooted in place. Perhaps it was the knowledge that they could all be hanged if this didn't go their way that was slowing her down. Or the fact that if the Landsmeet <em>did<em> go their way, Alistair would be king, at least in name and intention, before nightfall. Or maybe it was the simple fact that something, some_one_, was slowly growing inside her, this very moment, and she had yet to tell her fiancé anything about it.

Yes, it was probably that last bit. But if Serena was absolutely honest with herself, she hadn't even come to full grips with the knowledge herself yet. And it was true what she had said to Wynne… Alistair had quite a lot to get on with already without springing "Hey, we're going to be parents!" on him. By the Maker, they weren't even _married_ yet.

She smiled absently to the palace guards as she and the others passed through, silently resolving herself to tell Alistair tonight, no matter the outcome of the Landsmeet.

"Warden." The voice was cool, almost insolent in tone, and it immediately snapped Serena out of her thoughtful ruminations. Ser Cauthrien stood before them, her enormous sword strapped to her back. At least it wasn't already in her hands, Serena thought.

"I am not surprised it has come to this," the young lieutenant continued. Her dark eyes snapped first to Serena, disappointment reading clearly there before drifting to Alistair. "And Alistair, if you were even remotely worthy of being called Maric's son, you would already _be_ in the Landsmeet, now wouldn't you?"

"Well, that's rude," Alistair remarked. Stepping forward, he drew himself up to his full height, dwarfing the already tiny woman to the point where she looked like a small tin soldier next to him. "It also shows how little you know of me, Serena, the Wardens, or my father."

"I know you have torn Ferelden apart to oppose the very man who ensured you were born into freedom!" the small brunette shot back. She moved forward too then, her head craning up to look Alistair in the eye. "Do not think you will get past me to desecrate the Landsmeet itself."

"You and what army, my dear?" Zevran said, a dangerous note to his voice. "I count nine of us, and one of you."

"The nobles of Ferelden will confirm my lord as regent," Ser Cauthrien barreled on, ignoring the elven assassin completely. "And we can finally put... this... to rest. Once you are all gone."

"Do you really not see what Loghain has become?" Serena asked quietly. "Tevinter magisters in the Alienage, taking our fellow Fereldans as slaves. Bribing arls, and poisoning those he couldn't buy, in order to remain in control… And worst of all, aligning himself with Rendon Howe, which is a sign of lunacy in and of itself. How can you defend that?"

"I… I…" Cauthrien frowned, biting her lip. "I admit I have had many doubts of late. Loghain is a great man, but I believe his hatred of Orlais has driven him to madness." A stray tear slipped down the lady knight's cheek as she stared into Serena's eyes. "He has done terrible things. I know it, but… but I owe him _everything_. I cannot betray him. Do not ask me to!"

Serena placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, her mouth a firm line. "Then let us stop him, Cauthrien. You know it's the only way."

At that, the knight dropped her gaze, her own dark watery eyes straying to a nearby tapestry. "I never thought duty would taste so bitter…" There was another nod, and Ser Cauthrien steeled herself, stepping aside to let them pass with a curt nod. "Stop him, Warden. Stop him from betraying everything he once loved. But please, show mercy. Without Loghain, there would be no Ferelden to defend."

"I know," Serena replied. Stepping past the knight, Serena led the others into the Landsmeet chamber, her shoulders squared for a fight.


	78. Chapter 78

**Author's Note:** At long last! The Landsmeet! Apologies for the week long absence, this was difficult chapter to get together. Thanks all for the reviews and comments. I love seeing everyone's predictions for the future!

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><p><span>Chapter 78<span> - _The Landsmeet_

"My lords and ladies of the Landsmeet, you have heard the words straight from his very own mouth. Teyrn Loghain would have us give up our freedoms, our traditions, out of an unjustified fear!"

Arl Eamon Guerrin stood tall near the center of the chamber, his keen eyes snapping from one landholder to the next. He was dressed, instead of his usual embroidered tunic and surcote, in full leather plate armor. At his hip was a long sword, the same, Serena thought, that had hung in the arl's study back at Redcliffe. She hoped this wouldn't be an occasion to actually use it.

"He placed us on this path," Eamon continued. "Yet we should place our destiny in _his_ hands? Must we sacrifice everything _good_ about our nation to save it?" To that, there was applause from around the chamber, many of the landholders nodding and whispering to each other.

"A fine performance, Eamon, but no one here is taken in by it." Flanked by two helmeted guardsmen, Loghain swaggered into the center chamber, staring daggers at anyone who dared look at him directly. "You would attempt to put a puppet on the throne and every soul here knows it. The better question is, "Who will pull the strings?"

Searching about the room, Serena saw his gaze land on her as she and her companions joined the small group of landholders that were standing in the lower chamber. "Ah. And here we have the puppeteer."

"Tell us, Warden. How will the Orlesians take our nation from us? Will they deign to send their troops, or simply issue their commands through this would-be prince? What did they offer you? How much is the price of Fereldan honor now?"

Serena stood tall, her black armor shined to a high polish. She could hear the crowd shift, almost as one, in her and Alistair's direction. "How can you honestly believe, after seeing what has become of our lands these last months, that Orlais is a bigger danger than the Blight that is threatening to destroy us all?"

"There are enough refugees in my bannorn now to make _that_ abundantly clear!" shouted Bann Alfstanna from the balcony above. "Farmhouses are filled with women and children, abandoned or sent ahead of their husbands and brothers and sons, hopeful to find a piece of this land not swallowed up by the Blight!"

Beside her, another spoke up. Craning her neck, Serena saw it was Arl Wulff, of Western Hills. She wondered if Leliana had worked any of her charms on the man, or if it was outrage that made him speak up against the regent. "The south has fallen, Loghain! Will you let darkspawn take the whole country for fear of Orlais?"

"The Blight is indeed real, Wulff. But do we need _Grey Wardens_ to fight it?" Loghain paced across the stone floor, the light from the windows above catching on the sharp edges of his armor as he moved, reflecting it back in strange patterns. If Serena hadn't been so furious with the man, she would have been mesmerized.

"_They_ claim that they alone can end the Blight, yet they failed spectacularly against the darkspawn at Ostagar, and they ask to bring with them four legions of chevaliers."

"And once we open our borders to the chevaliers," Loghain continued. "Can we really expect them to simply return from whence they came?"

"You bring in Orlais, time and again, to no avail, Teyrn Loghain," Serena said evenly, her temper, for once, not getting the best of her. "Let us speak some on what _you_ have done." Pulling a sheath of papers from her belt, Serena held them high. "You sold Fereldan citizens into slavery to fund this civil war!"

"What is this, Loghain?" cried Bann Sighard, outrage battling shock as he stood glaring at the general from nearby. "There is no slavery in Ferelden. Explain yourself!"

"There is no saving the Alienage," Loghain replied tersely. "Damage from the riots has yet to be repaired. There are bodies still rotting in their homes. It is not a place I would send my worst enemy. There is no chance of holding it if the Blight comes here. I did those people a service by sending them off-"

"So you thought a better solution to helping them rebuild the Alienage was to sell the people who lived there into slavery?" Serena replied. "South Reach has nearly been taken by the darkspawn already. Will you sell Arl Bryland and his people into slavery next to fund your madness? Or would it be, as you say, to _protect_ them? Because we couldn't possibly hold South Reach…" Turning on her heel, she addressed the Landsmeet as a whole for the first time. "Should we allow everywhere to fall, then, to the darkspawn? Everywhere but Denerim, for that is where we are now?"

"Despite what you may think, Warden, I have done my duty! Whatever my regrets may be for the elves, I have done what was needed for the good of Ferelden!"

"And that is my point, exactly, Teyrn Loghain!" Serena shot back. "You have no idea what is for the good of Ferelden any longer! You speak of duty, and I am left wondering… did you feel it was your duty to send an apostate to Redcliffe to poison Arl Eamon?"

"I assure you, Warden, if I were going to send someone, it would be my own soldiers. I would not trust to the discretion of an apostate." Loghain looked around, the hard lines of his face made harsher by his deep frown. "What evidence have you of these charges, anyway?"

"My brother, for one," called Alfstanna from above. "Iminric tells a very different tale. One that says you snatched a blood mage from the Chantry's justice. Coincidence?" The pointed look on her face said she certainly didn't think so.

"Do not think the Chantry will overlook this, Teyrn Loghain." It was the first time Revered Mother of Denerim's Chantry had chosen to speak up. Her stern face looked out over all of them, her tiny frame radiating it's own kind of power. "Interference in a templar's sacred duties is an offense against the Maker."

"Whatever I have done, I will answer for later," Loghain replied dismissively. "At the moment, however, I wish to know what this Warden has done with my daughter."

Serena shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You took my daughter- our _queen_- by force, killing her guards in the process," Loghain raged. "What arts have you employed to keep her? Does she even still live?"

"I believe I can speak for myself…" said a voice from the end of the long chamber. Serena cringed inwardly at the sound. Of course Anora would make a grand entrance. As one, the landholders turned to face their queen. "Lords and ladies of the Ferelden, hear me. My father is no longer the man you know. This man is not the hero of River Dane."

Dramatic, Serena thought, but effective. All around them the freeholders were whispering amongst themselves, heads bobbing from Anora, to Loghain, to Serena and her group, and back again.

"This man turned his troops aside and refused to protect your king as he fought bravely against the darkspawn," continued Anora, her lilting tone drawing the crowd in. "This man seized Cailan's throne before his body was cold, and locked me away so I could not reveal his treachery. I would have already been killed, if not for these Grey Wardens."

"Anora is telling the truth," Alistair said boldly. It was the first time he'd spoken up since they'd entered the Landsmeet chamber. "She was being held at the Arl of Denerim's estate by Rendon Howe and sent her handmaiden to us, to see if we could help."

"So these Warden's influence has poisoned even your mind, Anora?" Loghain said quietly. "I wanted to protect you from this." Turning his back on his daughter, he addressed the Landsmeet as a whole. "My lords and ladies, our land has been threatened before. It's been invaded, and lost, and won times beyond counting."

"We Fereldans have proven that we will never truly be conquered so long as we are united. We must not let ourselves be divided now. Stand with me, and we shall defeat even the Blight itself!"

"We shall call for a vote, then," a man in formal attire said from nearby. "Each bannorn shall make it's vote known!"

"South Reach stands with the Grey Wardens!" called Arl Bryland in response.

Stepping up to the balcony once again, Bann Alfstanna stood tall. "Waking Seas stands with the Grey Wardens!"

"Dragon's Peak supports the Wardens!" cried Bann Sighard, his fist in the air. Serena glanced sidelong at Alistair, hope bubbling up in her chest. Maybe this would actually work…

"The Western Hills throws their lot in with the Wardens," said Wulff, his beard twitching as he gazed down from the balcony above. "Maker help us."

"I stand by Loghain," replied Bann Ceorlic. "We've no hope of victory otherwise!"

"Rainesfere stands with the Grey Wardens!" Teagan stood near his brother, Eamon, who spoke up quickly next.

"As does Redcliffe, and it's people. We stand united behind the Grey Wardens."

"We, too, stand with the Grey Wardens!" There was a collective gasp from all as Serena's brother, Fergus, removed his hat and stepped forward. "Rendon Howe murdered my parents, Bryce and Eleanor Cousland. As their son and heir, I cannot stand by and allow their murderer's accomplice to lead our armies against the Blight. Highever supports the Grey Wardens and King Alistair!"

"The Landsmeet is against you, Teyrn Loghain," Serena said carefully. "It would be wise to step aside gracefully."

"Traitors!" Loghain spat, absolute fury lining his face. "Which of you stood against the Orlesian emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives?" Turning on Serena, he pointed a menacing finger at Eamon. "You fought with us once, Eamon. You cared about this land once. Before you got too old and fat and content to even see what you risk."

"None of you deserve a say in what happens here! None of you have spilled blood for this land the way I have! How dare you judge me!" His dark eyes flicked back to Serena, and he stepped forward, a mere two feet from her. Behind him, his guardsmen stepped forward as well, their hands on the hilts of their blades.

She felt, rather than saw, Alistair move to stand at her side. "Back down, Loghain," Alistair said, warning in his voice. "The Landsmeet has chosen."

"Call off your guards," Serena added. "We can settle this with honor."

"Then let us end this. I always knew it would come to this. When we first met at Ostagar, I would never have thought so. But Ostagar seems like it happened in another lifetime, to someone else." Loghain frowned, his body language becoming more relaxed as he spoke. Even so, Serena itched to pull one of her daggers, if only for it's comforting weight in her hand.

"A man is made by the quality of his enemies. Maric told me that once. I wonder if it's more a compliment to you or me, Warden." Waving a hand, he seemed to pull himself out of his reverie. "Enough! Let the Landsmeet declare the terms the duel."

"Duel?" Alistair whispered. His voice was low, and if Serena hadn't been just next to him, she wouldn't have heard him at all. "Who said anything about a duel?"

"It's the only honorable way," Serena replied. "Considering he won't just… give up... like a _normal_ person."

"Have you ever dueled someone?"

"Fergus... a few knights back at Highever. Oh, and you." Chancing a glance at him, she smiled crookedly. "What about you?"

"Err, the same, minus your brother. But I _did_ pounce you, so…"

"It shall be fought according to tradition." Bann Alfstanna came down the short staircase from the balcony, her eyes flicking between Loghain and the rest. Behind her, the other lords were steadily trickling down. All wanted to get as close to the duel as possible, it seemed. "A test of arms in single combat until one party yields. And we who are assembled will abide by the outcome. The winning party shall choose the king."

"Or queen," Anora added.

The lady bann rolled her eyes. "Correct. Or queen."

"Well, will you face me yourself, Warden?" Loghain asked. "Or have you a champion?"

"_I'm_ her champion. I'll face you," Alistair said instantly. "Serena has done enough on my behalf."

"Alistair-" Serena felt her stomach drop out as she stood rooted to the spot, her eyes searching his face. Surely he would be a better match, at least physically, against Loghain. But she couldn't help her unease. She hoped it wasn't a bad omen, or worse, a sign from the baby.

"This is my fight, Serena," Alistair said quietly. "This is _justice_."

"Yes. I just..." Serena stumbled over her words, unsure of how to phrase what she wanted to say. If he lost, they would be hung, all of them, and Alistair would never know of their son or daughter...

Breathing deep, she forced a smile to her face, trying her best to appear strong. "I love you."

"And I, you. This is for you. For us."

Serena nodded, touching his ring that she wore to her lips. "For Ferelden." Turning to Loghain, they stood shoulder to shoulder, a united front. "Alistair will face you."

"Ah! Then let us test the mettle of our would-be king." Loghain's dark eyes twinkled wickedly as Serena and the others stepped back, giving the two opponents a wide berth.

Immediately they fell into a predatory stance, circling each other wearily. Alistair matched him step for step, and Serena found herself feeling slightly more optimistic watching her fiancé duel Loghain as they traded a few easy blows, feeling out the others' strength.

"It would seem the cloister was good for you, after all," Loghain sneered, his shield held out in front for protection. It bore the symbol of Gwaren, an almost gold wyvern. "I imagine you would never have gotten this kind of experience with a sword living under Eamon's roof."

"Shut up," Alistair snapped. "You know nothing of my life."

"That just proves how truly little _you_ really know, boy." Rushing forward, Loghain swung his sword down hard and fast, giving Alistair little time to parry the blow. "You forget Maric was my best friend. He could keep _nothing_ from me! Not you, not even your mother. Not for lack of trying, though."

"She was a fighter, too," Loghain continued, his sword meeting Alistair's. "Atypical, of course." His dark eyes flicked over to Serena and he smiled cruelly. "That seems to be a trait of the Wardens."

Perhaps the others were too far back to see it. Or perhaps they simply did not know Alistair the way Serena did, but it was then that she saw his eyes go hard, almost glassy like a predators'. The mention of his mother was probably what did it, but Serena watched, her own eyes going wide as saucers, as Alistair let loose a wild combination of hits and shield bashes that took the teryn completely by surprise.

"I never want to hear you speak of my mother again," Alistair growled, his face etched in lines of pure fury. "I never want to hear you speak of Serena." His blue glowing sword slammed down again, the plummel striking Loghain's shield hard. "I never want to hear you speak of the Wardens. You know nothing of family, friendship, and most of all, honor!"

"You abandoned my half-brother at Ostagar to _die_, Loghain!" Alistair spat, his sword meeting Loghain's in a loud metallic clatter. "He was our _king_, and you left his body to rot among the darkspawn!"

"Cailan was a dreamer! He played at being a warrior, and played at being a king!" Loghain swung hard, his shield meeting Alistair's. "He had my daughter to carry him at one, and me to carry him at the other, just as the Cousland girl shall continue to carry you!"

There was a furious roar and loud, gut-wrenching bellow of pain as Alistair slammed his shield as hard as he could into the older man, knocking him flat on his back. Alistair's sword- when Serena had started to think of it as Alistair's sword instead of Maric's sword, she didn't know- was near Loghain's throat in an instant.

"I need no one to carry me, Loghain," Alistair said sternly. He pressed the sword tip closer, until it just barely drew blood. "_Yield_."

There was a interminable pause where Serena could hear the entire chamber collectively hold its breath, waiting for Loghain's response.

"I yield. There _is_ some of Maric in you, after all," Loghain breathed raggedly. He gazed up at Alistair from his position on the floor, his eyes boring into the younger man's, as if conveying their own message. "Good."

"Forget Maric, this is for-"

"Wait!" Alistair had barely lifted the sword as Anora broke through the ring surrounding the two men. "You can't do that! My father may have been wrong, but he is still a hero to the people."

Serena opened her own mouth to counter but it was Loghain, now standing, who beat her to it.

"Anora, hush. It's over. Daughters never grow up, Anora. They remain six years old with pigtails and skinned knees forever." Turning back to Alistair, he dropped to one knee, his head bowed. "Just make it quick, boy."

"I owe that to Duncan," Alistair replied, his face still set in hard lines. His sword held high, it glowed slightly blue as it came slicing back down in the killing blow.

There was a gasp, as if everyone gathered had not believed it could truly end like this, and then just blood as the body of the man who had been general, and teryn, and then finally regent fell to the ground.

Loghain Mac Tir was dead.


	79. Chapter 79

**Author's Note**: Thank you to everyone reviewing! It is always much appreciated to hear you guys' feedback on the story/plot. I'm planning on wrapping it up before we hit chapter one billion, but thank you as always for hanging on for the ride. As a side note, there isn't actually (as far as I know) an oath they say in-game to pledge allegiance to the crown, so I had to improvise.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 79<span>_ - The King's Speech_

It had been years since Anora had smelled the coppery scent of blood. Certainly not since she had married Cailan, and began her tenure as queen. But now the smell invaded her nose as her father's blood splattered across her, the red sticky droplets soaking into the gold embroidery of her silk gown. It was most definitely ruined, and for the briefest of moments Anora wondered if the Warden had any nice clothing left, if the rumors were true about the predicaments she and her companions often found themselves in.

It was a few more precious moments before reality caught up to her again and she realized the situation she was now in.

Rising from the floor where she had kneeled at her father's side, she heard voices for the first time since before the duel, it felt. A jumble of noises and sounds she couldn't decipher until Eamon's voice broke through her thoughts suddenly.

"So it is decided. Alistair will take his father's throne-"

"Wait, what? No?" Alistair turned to Serena, confusion and nervousness reading clearly all over his face. "When did this get decided? I mean… we decided that?"

Anora smiled inwardly, ready to press her advantage. It was a trait shared by her and her father. The ability to sense weakness, and pounce on it. "He refuses the throne! Everyone here has heard him. I think it's clear, then. He abdicates in favor of _me_."

"I hardly think you're the appropriate person to mediate this, Anora." Eamon turned to the Warden then, as did most of the assembly. Anora found herself rankled by that, even though Serena was a Cousland… a teyrn's daughter, or sister, as it were, was definitely second to the queen in standing, wasn't it? The way the assembly turned to her for a decision… Anora truly hoped that wasn't indicative of the way things would go for her.

"Warden, will you help us?"

Serena nodded firmly, as if she had been expecting this. "Yes. May I have a word with the... with Anora, please?"

At that, Anora saw Alistair blanch and it was an effort for her to keep the smug smile that was tugging at her lips at bay. Perhaps the Warden did have some sense after all.

"Serena?"

"I'll speak with you in a moment, Alistair," the brunette replied quietly, her face blank. Anora followed her a short distance away, her sudden elation evaporating quickly.

"What makes you a better choice than Alistair?" Serena asked briskly.

"Surely that's not a serious question," Anora replied, slightly taken aback. "I have been the ruler of this nation in all but name for the last five years. I can lead Ferelden." Her eyes glanced over at the hulking armored _thing_ that had just finished beheading her father. "Alistair can't."

"If you give him the crown, then you've only bought us a brief pause in this civil war," the blonde continued, trying with all her might to sound earnest. "It will resume at the first opportunity and it won't end until a new dynasty holds power."

The Warden, however seemed unconvinced. "Alistair has shown himself quite the exceptional Warden. Who is to say he won't excel further as King? He would have my help, and guidance from his uncles, should he want it."

Anora frowned. This was a point, but she needn't concede it. "And he'll need it. He can't hold the throne on his own, and everyone here knows it. Opportunists will forever be watching him, waiting to grab power-"

"You couldn't hold the throne yourself," Serena said with a casual shrug. "You ruled well in peace times, but with the Blight knocking on our door... admit it, you _allowed_ your father to take control." She raised an eyebrow and Anora felt heat rise to her cheeks. "Perhaps we need a King with true fighting experience, now that we find ourselves in a time of war."

"You promised me your _support_," Anora said through gritted teeth. "What is this, Warden?"

"Is it worse than turning us over to Cauthrien, I wonder?" There was another shrug that infuriated Anora as she stood facing the armored woman, her own dark eyes trying to bore themselves into the Warden's. Serena's depths gave nothing away, however, and Anora found herself staring into the eyes of an equal.

"I gave you my support when I thought, perhaps, you two could rule together."

"_Together_?" Anora spat. "Are you daft, Warden? You couldn't possibly expect me to rule beside the man who killed my father!"

Anora regretted her tone as soon as she said it, as whatever nobles that hadn't already been turned around to stare at the two women. Like night and day they must have appeared, though Anora had to admit they both had a dramatic streak and a flair for working a room to their advantage. It was a pity they were obviously on opposite sides of the coin flip this time, however.

"Yes, obviously, things have changed significantly since then."

"_How_ significantly, I do wonder." Again Serena's eyes were shut to her. It was like staring into two icy, glacial pools, and then trying to decipher meaning from them. Despite that, Anora knew there was something, perhaps many somethings, that the Warden was not telling her.

"So, you'll put him on the throne, then." It was no longer a question, and Anora didn't know why she even bothered to utter the words. She wondered absently if they would allow her to stay in her rooms, or if they would put her in the drafty north tower. Surely they wouldn't place her in Fort Drakon as a political prisoner...

"Yes."

"And what of me?" Anora said quietly. "What shall you have them do with me?"

"I don't know, Anora. It isn't my opinion there that matters," Serena replied, equally quiet. Her usual fiery, passionate nature was quelled now, with the death of Loghain. She simply seemed tired to Anora, and tiny bit relieved, perhaps, to have it all done. "I know what it is like to lose a parent. I'm sorry for your loss." With a curt nod, she turned and strode back the short distance to where Eamon and the others waited.

Anora stood staring after her, her mouth slightly parted, bewildered. How had the tables turned against her so much in such a little span of time? The Warden and her companions had only been in the capital for a few weeks at most, and here the assembly turned to her for answers, over its rightful _queen_.

Shaking her head, perhaps to clear it, though she rather thought that impossible, Anora set her shoulders and followed, joining the others to hear the fate of the land she had always called home.

* * *

><p>"As the arbiter of this dispute, what is your decision, Warden?" Arl Eamon's armor caught a bit of the light coming down from the above as he raised his voice, so all could hear him clearly. "Who will lead Ferelden?"<p>

"I have decided that the duel results shall hold, and Alistair will be king." Serena turned towards Alistair then and nodded, as slowly she lowered herself before him to rest on one knee. "I bow to you, my king."

"Oh, please, don't do that, Serena-" Alistair whispered, his eyes filled with emotion. He reached out and pulled her to her feet once again. Speaking much louder this time, he said, "I believe it is time to announce our engagement to the realm, love."

There were gasps from those nearby as Alistair straightened up to his full height, ready to address the entire Landsmeet as King for the first time.

"Many know Serena Cousland as the Warden. As one of the fabled Grey, who survived Ostagar and rallied the different peoples of Ferelden to form a grand army, one intent to fight the Blight that now besieges our land."

"It was at Ostagar that I met her, a mere Warden recruit, hurting from the loss of her family. We survived the onslaught there, only to find ourselves in greater and greater dangers since. Through it all, Serena stood tall. It was during this journey that I fell in love with her, and it is with a full heart that I declare now, to all of you, that she has gracefully consented to accept my hand in marriage. I present to you, your future queen!"

The applause was deafening. Serena felt a smile tug at her lips for the first time that day, the worry and doubt that had plagued her now slowly draining itself from her body. She glowed with her love with Alistair then, as around them various banns and arls showered them with well wishes.

"In lieu of my father, I gladly accept the honor of being first to say congratulations to you both, your Highness!" Fergus called, coming forward to shake Alistair's hand heartily. "And may the Maker smile upon you this day and all days!"

"Here, here! Though I would appreciate some advance notice next time," Eamon added. At that, Serena felt her cheeks redden guiltily.

It wasn't long before Eamon had settled the assembly once again, intent on restoring order to move along the proceedings. The jubilation over the news of their impending nuptials was likely the first good news many of the people had heard in days, possibly weeks, since the darkspawn had come from below. But now the landholders were once again focused, and many were already lowering themselves to one knee in preparation.

"_By blood, by oath, I swear to you. My king, my liege, our protector of this land. So shall it be by Waking Seas, by Dragon's Peak, or Highever plain. My allegiance stands to you this day, and ever shall it so remain_."

There didn't seem to be an inherent rhythm to the pledge, as each landholder seemed to repeat the oath at their own speed, each ending at a different time. As Serena gazed over their heads, she wondered how many of them remembered five years ago when they had made this same pledge to Alistair's half-brother, Cailan. Then she saw Anora.

The former queen stood rigid, her eyes narrowed dangerously as the rest of the assembly turned to gape at her. The silence stretched on until Eamon stood, striding over to where Anora stood alone.

"Anora, the Landsmeet has decided against you. You must now swear fealty to our king, and relinquish all claim to the throne for yourself and your heirs." He needn't add the _or else_.

Serena eyed the former queen expectantly as around them the others began to rise once again. It was not often that Anora looked at a loss, but when she had spoken to Serena just minutes before, the queen had looked quite shaken at the turn of events unfolding before her.

"If you think I will swear that oath, Eamon, you know nothing of me." Anora's eyes scanned the crowd, Serena thought maybe to see if there were dissenters among them. But the assembly simply stared back, placid. No help was coming from them, and if she wanted to stand up to the crown, she would have to do it on her own steam. "I'm the rightful ruler of this land, no matter what this Warden says, or what the outcome of a silly duel has decided."

Eamon shook his head, exasperation reading clearly across his features as he turned away from her. "We cannot leave Ferelden in a state of civil war. We must have unity. If she will not swear fealty to you, Alistair, and renounce her claim to the throne, she is a threat to us all."

"Put her in the tower for now, then," Alistair replied. He frowned, as if the words had a particular taste to them he didn't quite care for. "If I fall against the Blight, then she can have her throne. If not… then… we'll see."

"You would still give me a chance for the throne, after all this?" Anora's eyebrows were in her hair, her face momentarily confused as she couldn't seem to comprehend Alistair's decision.

"I said if I _fall_, Anora," Alistair shot back. "_If I fall_, the throne falls to _you_. I won't kill you while there's still a chance that could happen." He rolled his eyes, frowning still at his half-brother's widow. "Someone has to take this Blight seriously."

"That is uncharacteristically wise of you, Alistair."

"Yes, well, don't let it get around. I have a reputation."

"Very well then," Eamon said, signaling to two helmeted guardsmen. "Guards, if you would please take Anora to the tower."

"I can walk on my own, thank you!" Anora screeched, shaking off the two men. "I _use_ to live here, you know." Throwing one last icy glare Serena's way, she marched out of the room, the two guards flanking her on either side.

"Your Highness, would you address the Landsmeet?" There was a short pause as everyone turned to stare at Alistair once again. Serena nudged him forward with her shoulder.

"Oh! That would be me. Yes. Right, um." Alistair cleared his throat as he stepped up on the nearby dais, tugging Serena after him. "I never knew him, not really, but from all I've heard of my father, what defined him was his commitment to protecting this land."

Serena nudged him again, lightly this time. "Alistair, the Blight…"

"I was getting there!" Turning back, he smiled nervously at the crowd. Serena couldn't help but notice how different he was speaking about her to the group, about how they'd met, how they'd gotten here… he had been honest, and passionate, and that had easily offset whatever nerves he'd been feeling. She silently wished he could channel that passion into this speech.

"Anyway, the Blight. Yes. I may be Maric's son, but I am also a Grey Warden. I took an oath. I swore I would stand and fight the darkspawn, no matter the cost to myself. I cannot break that oath just to wear the crown. I have to go with my fellow Wardens to face the Blight."

"However, when the Blight is over, I'll come back and take up my duties… whatever they may be… as king. Until then, I name Arl Eamon as my regent." Stepping back, he nodded as Eamon bowed gracefully in his armor.

"I can do Maric's memory no less honor than you do. I accept. And may the Maker bless your efforts against the darkspawn." Bowing again, he stepped aside, his short speech done.

My fellow Grey Warden, Serena Cousland, will, I hope, take Loghain's place as the commander of my armies." Turning now to Serena, he smiled, and she could see he wanted to take her hand. "Shall we finish this thing together?"

"I could do no less, my king."

Smiling, he turned back to the landholders. "Everyone, get ready to march. It's going to take all of Ferelden's strength to survive this Blight."

A swell of applause started again, starting with Eamon and moving outwards among the crowd. Serena saw her brother's smiling face from nearby, beard and all, and she felt a tug in her chest.

She wished their parents were alive to see what they had accomplished. Fergus and his men had almost single-handedly protected the south from darkspawn raids as she had solved nearly every _other_ problem in the realm. She wished her parents could see the ring on her finger, her mother especially. That they could know she loved a man, as much as her parents had ever loved each other, and that she was loved in return. And that soon they would have their own child to worry about…

Glancing at Alistair, she felt butterflies in her stomach. How would she tell him? Perhaps she should take a page out of Alistair's book and just blurt it out on the road to Redcliffe Castle. She smiled at the memory, hoping she would have a better opening than that. Turning her attention back to her king, she smiled. Whatever happened, he at least looked the part.

"There have been Blights before," Alistair called. "And Ferelden has survived. It will be a difficult road we must now walk, but we will face it. And we'll defeat it!"

* * *

><p>Serena found him in the library that night, of all places. Sitting haunched at a large wooden desk, his armor removed, pouring over a group of maps, Alistair raked a hair through his dark blonde hair.<p>

"We saw them in the Dead Trenches, but that was weeks ago, months really. If we made it all the way to Denerim with weeks to spare…" Alistair frowned, tapping his finger on a spot near Ostagar. "The horde could be anywhere in Ferelden by now."

"Very true," Serena said softly. Padding into the room, she sat down in the plush chair beside him, running a hand through his hair. It was soft, almost like cat's fur, as she pushed it through her fingers. "Riordan will find them, and then we'll have a better idea of where to mount our first assault."

"You're thinking it'll be a multitude of battles then? Like Ostagar?"

"I think it would be best. In one all out assault… I'm not sure what our chances are." Serena pulled up one map, her hand tracing the line that represented the boundaries of the ruins of Ostagar. "We had… what? Fifty Grey Wardens at Ostagar? Had Loghain not quit the field, things may have ended much differently, of course… but that was chaos. Cailan had much better success with the smaller, frequent battles."

"You're my commander, love," Alistair replied. "Besides, when you look at what Fergus has done with barely a unit of men-"

"And what we've done with, what, 10 people and a dog?" Serena added.

Alistair laughed, the stress of the last few minutes breaking across his features. "Exactly! I'd take Peanut in a fight against the archdemon any day."

"He certainly smells worse."

"So, what brings you to the library? You've got a look about you that says you didn't just come here for the dusty smell of these old maps."

Serena blanched. "I… I just… I wanted to congratulate you, on the whole becoming king thing."

"Couldn't have done it without you, my dear." He reached over and clutched her hand to his cheek, pressing a kiss to the ring she wore. "You ought to congratulate me on my engagement."

"Oh yes, your bride is very pretty. A bit fat, though."

"Fat?"

Serena nodded, seeing her opening. "Yes, and she'll only get fatter."

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't know, I think she works out quite a lot-"

"Because... because she's going to have a baby," Serena interrupted. The words came out in a rush. So much for not blurting it out.

"What?"

"I… we… we're going to have a b-baby, Alistair."

"What?"

"...I'm pregnant."

"What?"

Serena frowned. "Please stop saying what."

"But the… is that… _oh_." Alistair blinked a few times, his face utterly bewildered. "A baby?"

Serena nodded. "I've been sick, and Wynne came to check it out. I've been… my stomach has been more sensitive because inside it is a little baby."

"Oh, Maker's breath."

"You… you aren't angry, are you?"

"Angry? No! No." Alistair ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just… I mean, I thought… I knew Eamon and the rest… they'd expect an heir, you know? And with the taint in our blood, I just… I never thought it would be possible. Every Grey Warden I knew who had children had them before they took the Joining..." Unexpectedly he reached out and placed the hand on Serena's stomach. "So there's a baby in there? Right now?"

"Right now," Serena said, smiling gently. "Getting bigger, I suppose. I think that's what babies do. They get bigger and bigger and then they come out eventually."

"Wow. _Wow_. We… that's _our_ baby. Our baby! I'm going to be a father! To a baby!"

"I'm glad you stopped saying what."

"When is it… when do you think it'll come out?" Alistair's elation slowly seemed to be evolving into the same worries Serena felt. "I mean, with the Blight… what do we...?"

"I have quite a few months to go, Wynne said. The better part of a year, I think." Placing her hand on his, she squeezed it tight. "I can do this. And honestly… if we don't kill the archdemon, baby or no baby, it won't matter. There won't be an us, or a them, or a Ferelden. This will have all been for nothing."

"You're right. You're… you're always right." Alistair sighed heavily. "I just… this adds a whole level of worry, you know. You can't be on the front lines anymore, Serena." He placed a finger over lips to stop her protest. "No, I just won't have it. Killing the archdemon is one thing, but I won't endanger the lives of my wife _and_ my child fighting thieves in some back alley. It's not worth it, and you know it."

"So I'm meant to do what then?"

"You're Commander. You'll... _command_ people."

"And what will you do, then? Fight all my battles for me?"

"I'm king," Alistair said. "I'll… do kingly things. You know it's really too bad _you_ aren't king, then I could be the one carrying the baby around…"

Serena poked him in the stomach playfully. "I suppose we could always kill the archdemon by having it laugh at you to death."

"Oh, I don't know. I heard pregnancy is supposed to make you glow..." Alistair's face broke into another grin. "I still can't believe it, you know. We're going to have a baby. Did Wynne know if it was going to be a boy or a girl?"

Serena shrugged. "If she did, she didn't tell me. I can't even feel it yet... if it weren't for me wanting to eat everything in sight-"

"And we're Grey Wardens on top of it-"

"Which means our _normal_ is to eat like a pack of starving wolves."

"I shudder to think how much the _baby_ will eat, having _us_ for parents." Alistair squeezed her hand. "A baby! Maker's breath. No matter how many times I say it... Do you think we should tell the others?"

"I was just thinking about that. Eamon would want to know, I'm sure of it. You heard his "advance notice" comment earlier. Ugh." Serena shook her head. "And Alim and Morrigan will know soon enough if Wynne could sense it." She sighed. There was so much to worry about these days. As much of a blessing as this baby would be, it was coming at quite a price already as well. "I suppose we should. They've all been with us for ages now. They feel as much like family as Fergus does."

"Yes, it's amazing what taking down a couple dragons together will do for securing that friendly bond between companions, eh?" Yawning wide, Alistair moved to stand, pulling Serena up gently with him. "I think I've had enough speechifying for one day, however. Maybe in the morning. After breakfast."

"...Or maybe lunch."

"That's the spirit, my dear. Food first, shocking news and awkward congratulations second."

"Agreed." They headed down the hallway to the room they shared, hand in hand.

"Hey Serena?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"Hey Alistair?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too."


	80. Chapter 80

**Author's Note: **A big thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review! We're rounding the final corner of the story, though there's still a few surprises in store, of course.

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><p><span>Chapter 80<span>_ - Strategy_

"I must admit, I'm still a bit foggy on why you would want _my_ help, my lady."

"Because you are an exemplary fighter, Samuell. And because you are one of the City Guard already, and an extremely loyal knight to my father before that." Serena nodded to the man keeping watch at the Alienage's large wooden gate. "You are used to making other people's safety your job."

The former knight frowned. "Won't that alarm the elves, my lady? The city guard has... has often turned a blind eye to the plight of the elves, I'm afraid."

"That's precisely why I want some of them to meet you. I think it'll go a long way towards forming that very important bond. It's been too long that the elves have been segegated within the city." Serena arched an eyebrow at the nervous looking man. "And Maker's breath, Samuell, you can call me Serena. We've only known each other for years now."

"I didn't even call you Serena when you were a teyrn's daughter, my lady," Samuell replied. "Imagine if I did so to the queen."

"I figured you wouldn't, but I thought it worth a try. Besides, if you're going to be captain of my personal guardsmen..."

"What?" Samuell momentarily lost his professional attitude as surprise rolled over him. "Captain?"

"Did I forget to mention that? Dear me, I've become so absentminded of late." Serena grinned, to let him know she was joking. "Alistair, er, the king, er, _His Majesty_, I mean, thinks it prudent I have a personal vanguard of sorts. I have to say, the idea as certainly grown on me once I made it clear I would be picking the guards myself."

Samuell glanced around, taking in the dilapidated structures that the elves called home. "And we're going into the Alienage because...?"

"There's a few people here I'd like to recruit if I can," Serena replied. "Beyond the young lady I'd like you to meet, who is fantastic with a blade, I think it will go a long way to repairing the enormous fracture Loghain caused with his slave trade to have it seen that the Queen of Ferelden trusts the elves, and has a few in her personal guard."

"That is... very wise of you, my lady. Anything we can do to lighten the tensions between the Alienage and the rest of the city is a gift of innumerable measure." Samuell sighed. "Your father would be so proud to see you now, my lady. I know it."

"My mother would simply be happy to see me settled down with a nice man."

"You are engaged to be married to the King of Ferelden, my lady. Teryna Eleanor would be over the moon."

"I wish they could be here to see how far we've come," Serena said quietly. Samuell patted her gently on the shoulder, his face etched with the same sadness she felt.

"They are, in a way. But they rest now at the Maker's side, my lady, and they watch over us all."

The sun shined brightly over them as they made their way through the Alienage's twisting passages. Many of the elves were out today, working to repair the various damage to their homes. A few Serena recognized, and found herself surprised when they waved merrily back at her.

"My lady! It is good to see you once again." Kallian's father, Cyrion, strode up to the pair. Nearby his nephew was working with another elf to replace their broken wooden door. "What brings you to the Alienage? Not more slavers, I hope."

"Not at all, thank the Maker. I find myself on much more pleasant business today, dear ser. I wanted to know if Kallian was quite busy?"

"Oh, I don't suppose so. She was helping Shianni look after a few of the young ones." Cyrion leaned in. "We've made it a sort of unofficial fixing day, if you will, so a lot of the children needed to be looked after while adults made repairs. You can find her over at Shianni's house, but would you mind if I ask why you want to see her? She isn't in trouble with the Wardens, is she?"

"No, no, nothing of the kind. I actually have a proposition for her, since she's so keen with a blade."

"Gets that from her mother, I'm afraid. The temper, too." Cyrion looked around, grabbing his nephew by the scruff. "Soris, go find Kallian, will you?"

"Of course, uncle." Soris dipped his head in a slight bow to Serena before rushing off.

"Warden! You're the last person I expected to find here." Kallian came around from a row of dilapidated houses, her eyes wide. "More baddies to kill, I hope? The Alienage has been so quiet since we took care of those slavers…"

"Yes and no. I wanted to offer you a position in the Queen's guard." Serena exchanged glances with the former knight. "This is Ser Samuell, he'll be your Captain, that's if you accept, of course."

"So, I'll be guarding that bitchy blonde in the palace?" Kallian rolled her eyes to the sky. "It better pay well…"

"Actually, there's been a regime change. Assuming we aren't all consumed by the Blight, Alistair has taken the throne-"

"The big blonde you're all lovey-dovey with? So that makes you Queen, right?"

Serena smiled. Kallian was very bright, and _very_ blunt. "Correct."

"So… this Queen's guard is… your guard, right?"

"Correct."

"Then I accept." The tiny blonde smiled crookedly. "Though I still hope it pays well. Where do I sign?"

* * *

><p>Crows, sparrows, pigeons and hawks perched on every available tent in the King's camp. The birds had been coming and going constantly over the last few days, letters and other missives tied to their legs. Serena's mabari, Peanut, kept a vigil outside the tent she currently occupied with Alim and Leliana, watching the birds with large brown eyes.<p>

Serena re-read the message she had received from Elora, the Dalish master herder, from the day before.

_Serena, _

_Though we Dalish have little to gain from the happenings on in human cities, I find my heart very glad to hear you are commander of Ferelden's armies against the Blight. The darkspawn threat grows greater every day as blighted lands travel further and further north._

_I am very pleased to hear you have kept up with the meditation practices. Your power can only increase in range and control. How grand it would be to see all our brothers and sisters of the forest join us in protecting this land from the darkness below. It is something to consider, perhaps. _

_Dareth shiral, falon._

_Elora_

Serena could just imagine a pack of wolves coming to the defense of a farmholder, chasing down darkspawn at her urging. Smiling gently at the thought, she picked up the letter from Elora's Keeper, Lanaya.

_Warden-_

_Our aravel moves north of the Brecilian Forest, settling in a once fertile valley. The land is now spotted with blight, but I believe the land can be returned to its natural state once the darkspawn are destroyed. _

_The human lord of this land, Sighard, has been very kind to our clan, which has done much to ease my clans tensions with humans. His men work with our hunters to secure the area from darkspawn who continue to attack from a nearby cave. _

_This brings me to the point of my letter. One of our scouts, and one from another clan who has answered our summons, have become tainted by darkspawn blood while exploring this cave. We have sent them, with one of our finest warriors, to join your troops in the river valley to the west. _

_I pray you find something to help them. I have heard many tales of the Wardens, and many more rumors of what runs in your blood. Please, help them, Warden. I know we owe you much already, but I also know your heart is strong, and you can solve this problem. The Gods bless you._

_Keeper Lanaya_

Silently, Serena passed the letter over the table to Alim, who looked up from his maps, his face a mask of confusion. With a smile, she nodded to the letter, urging him to read it. "Looks like we may have more friends soon."

Alim raised an eyebrow, picking up the small piece of parchment hesitantly. "More… friends-?" Serena watched as soon the other dark eyebrow slowly ascended, joining the first, both of them resting somewhere near his hairline in surprise.

"More Wardens?"

Serena nodded. "If they get here in time."

"Commander Cousland? There's another message from Orzammar..."

The scout stepped in, a young elven man Kallian had recommended for the job, and handed Serena the small scroll. Serena was pleased to see he had quickly grown out of the nervous shifting he'd had around her and Alistair when he had first started. "It has the seal of the King."

"Oh, it's about time Bhelen got back to me," Serena murmured, rolling out the scroll. "I've gotten three scrolls from Faren in the time it's taken him to write one…"

_Warden-_

_It is good to hear from you again. The second wave of our army marches steadily south to converge with your second lieutenants' men near the River Dane. _

_My brother-in-law, as I'm sure you know, has roused an overwhelming amount of men and women from among the casteless to add to our ranks. I daresay the surface shall have one of the finest armies ever seen once our troops reach you._

_Faren leads the troops headed for your capital, while my general, Frandlin Ivo, will lead the warrior caste to your position in the valley. I believe you are correct in dividing the army as we are unsure where the bulk of the horde resides. I also have two bands of scouts combing the Dead Trenches to pick up any possible trail, but so far it has yielded little information other than firmly pointing south._

_I shall keep you updated if my scouts find more. _

_Most sincerely yours,_

_King Bhelen Aeducan_

Serena had barely put down the note when Alistair's voice drifted in through the tent flaps.

"Another bird for you, my dear." Alistair plucked the scroll from the tiny bird's leg as it hopped about on his shoulder. "Oh, and it's from your most favorite woman in the army." Unrolling it, he grinned across the table. "Shall I?"

Without waiting for a response, he began speaking in a loud altered voice, one Serena could only figure he thought sounded vaguely feminine in nature.

"Commander. Our unit awaits instructions from Hafter Valley. Lieutenant Fergus' scouting party took down a darkspawn enclave one day north of here. We also have received the mage and templar units from Circle Tower. Signed, Lieutenant Cauthrien." Alistair turned his head to address the small sparrow on his shoulder. "Not much for gossip, is she?"

"Not much for _personality_," Serena replied, rolling her eyes.

"You know, Commander, I think it is very gracious you allowed Cauthrien to keep her position after… after she was so polite and well-mannered towards us." Alim smirked, a rare sight on the usually serious elf. "Many would not be so amicable."

Serena shrugged. "She is a good lieutenant. She just… lost her way a bit, under Loghain. Many people lost their way, I think. He was a... forceful personality. To say the least of it."

"I do wish she would be a bit more friendly, though," Leliana said. "And maybe if she'd let me do a bit with her hair…" The redhead sighed wistfully, as if this was the greatest of Cauthrien's crimes. Glancing over, her eyes sharpened on the maps Alim was reexamining. "You've been looking over those for hours, Alim. What are you doing?"

"Mapping the horde," Alim said. "I've marked all the areas around Ferelden where we've had reports of darkspawn activity." He pushed the map forward as Alistair took a seat at the table.

Alistair raised an eyebrow skeptically. "It looks like a dart board."

Alim nodded, as if this was to be expected. "It would, to the untrained eye. No offense, your Majesty," he quickly amended. "I've been studying it since we left Denerim." He traced a line that led from Ostagar up to Lake Calenhad. "They followed this path, then raided that town southeast of Redcliffe... there... Lothering?"

"We saw Lothering weeks ago," said Serena. "The darkspawn had nearly burned it to the ground. The ground seemed to be fighting the taint as much as it could, but given time, the area would probably be taken completely."

"Only the Chantry still stood," Leliana added. "Though even the Maker's house was badly damaged."

Alistair frowned, his eyes roaming the little symbols Alim had made all over the parchment. "Can you see where they went after that, Alim? I can't really figure what these little blue marks mean. Or what any of them mean, honestly."

"The blue ones are animal casualities, mostly farm animals people reported as slaughtered by darkspawn. The red marks are human, elven, or dwarven casualities... these yellow ones are...um..." The elven man looked away, running a hand through his spiky hair. "The yellow ones are missing. People. Reports of people who went missing or were otherwise taken by the darkspawn."

"Alim... were they..." Serena choked on the words. The memories of their time down in the Deep Roads were still so close to the surface. "Were they women? The ones taken, I mean."

"Yes. All of the missing persons are women, so far. They are... they are only interested in the women, I would imagine."

"When did these... do you have dates?"

"Serena..."

"The dates, Alim."

"Most were weeks ago. The women are dead."

Serena huffed a breath of air out, her mouth twisting unhappily. This was the most unpleasant news she'd heard since they'd left the capital. "We can only hope they're dead."

Alim cleared his throat, the awkward moment passing slowly. "Anyway, after Lothering, they went around the lake to Orzammar, which is where we saw them in the Trenches, then back southeast. Though the trail sort of scatters after that… into these pockets of randomized chaos and ruined villages. The horde could be anywhere, and we're within two or three days walk of nearly everywhere of consequence."

Outside the tent, a loud cheer went up as Kallian poked her head in the tent.

"Serena, err, my lady, er, that fellow- the scruffy Orlesian one? He's back in camp." When they all looked confused, she raised her hands up, indicating his relative height. "You know, tallish guy. He's yammering on about darkspawn and the like. The Warden!"

"Oh, Riordan!" Serena popped out of her seat eagerly, nearly knocking the small wooden chair right over. "I'd forgotten I received word from him a few days ago from his falcon. Is that what the cheering is about? Does he have the archdemon's head on a pike?"

"No, my lady. Though the way the arl is hopping around him, I think he has some news."

"Indeed he does," Eamon said, marching into the tent unannounced. "Though he is loathe to tell us non-Wardens."

Behind him, Riordan hobbled in, his leg obviously causing him pain. Wynne followed just after, her hands glowing blue as she moved to keep pace with the injured Grey Warden. Riordan slumped down gratefully into the seat Serena offered him as Samuell motioned to her that he and Kallian would be right outside the tent should she need them.

"Ah, yes, thank you madam," the older Gray Warden said in his lilting Orlesian accent. "That feels much better. I tell you, had your scouts not ran into me a day ago, I would have been in much sorrier shape. May I ask whose idea it was to add a mage to the scouting parties?"

"That was Alim's," Serena said. "Cano helped you, then, I assume?"

"Ginger haired youth, about seventeen or so?"

"That would be him. He's very talented. He has been studying with Wynne, in fact." Serena smiled over Riordan's head at the older mage. "You can never have too many people with a talent for healing."

"Certainly not," Riordan replied. "My lady, it is wonderful to see you once again. Command suits you quite well. I apologize for my delay in returning. I needed to move more carefully to avoid darkspawn detection, and even then, as you can see, misfortune befell me."

"How did that happen?"

"I fell down a hill, actually," Riordan said, his face taking on a bit of a hangdog expression. "In my defense however, I was being chased by shrieks."

"Which would have _me_ wetting my armor, so I applaud you for not taking that route, Riordan." Alistair laughed, as only someone comfortable in their position as king could about wetting themselves.

"Thank you, Your Highness. We can at least rest assured that the shrieks are now dead, and my ankle…" Riordan nodded to Wynne then, "Thanks to your magical abilities, my dear, is feeling much stronger."

"You said there was news, though?" Serena prompted. "Is it the archdemon?"

"Yes, I've found the horde. I originally headed for Ostagar, and after following an underground tunnel… Well, they amassed above the ground in the Korcari Wilds, and moved north."

"That's in line with the intelligence we've received from Fergus and the Dalish," said Serena. "The dwarves are on their way here, with another squadron to be stationed near Denerim as a contingency unit."

"It would be devastating if we lost the capital," Eamon said suddenly, his face going gray. "I don't know if Ferelden could survive such an onslaught…"

"That's why we've taken steps to ensure it's not taken by surprise, Your Grace. The Dalish and the South Reach troops are near enough to the city that we should have a few days warning should the horde change direction." Serena turned her attention back to Riordan. "Where do you think they will strike?"

"It is hard to say, but the nearest town of consequence is…" Riordan paused, frowning as he thought of where the horde would head from their current position. "Ah. I think it is probably a safe bet they will head for Redcliffe."


	81. Chapter 81

**Author's Note:** This took a bit longer than I would have liked, but here it is, chapter 81! It's a bit bigger than usual, so hopefully that makes up for the long wait some. We're rounding the bend to the end, only a few more chapters to go.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 81<span>_- As You Were, Soldier_

It was set for that evening, before half the army began it's march towards Redcliffe castle. It had been months since Serena had thought of her own Joining, and now here she was, ready to subject three more souls to the unfortunate process of becoming a Grey Warden.

Alim, for his part, still seemed excited, despite the haggard appearances of the two Dalish who entered the camp that afternoon. Their handler, a great beast of a man named Rullen, shouldered all three of their packs, as the two tainted elves could barely carry themselves.

The two men, Theron and Darus, were resting in a healer's tent as Riordan worked with Wynne to prep the area in the forest they would use to contain the Joining. He was very concerned with keeping the finer details under wraps from the rest of the people in the camp.

Serena, Alim, and Alistair were out looking for darkspawn stragglers in order to complete the Joining ritual for the three elves.

"So, I understand there isn't much you can tell me about the ritual-" Alim began.

Alistair crashed through the underbrush, his sword only glowing the slight blue, indicating no darkspawn were in the immediate area. "Not until we're back at camp, I'm afraid, and by then, it'll have begun most likely."

"They want to keep it very secret, Alim," Serena added. "All we can tell you is, well, usually it's over pretty quick."

"Is there a chance they'll die? Or I will?"

There was a long pause as Alistair and Serena exchanged worried glances. Frowning, she considered telling the mage the truth. What would she have done had Duncan been honest with her? That the Joining could have easily taken her life, as it had Daveth's? That if Alistair's recollection was true, the Joining cup very nearly had...

"There is a chance, yes. I... we shouldn't tell you this, honestly..." Serena glanced at Alistair again, her face having the same intense look as she was sure hers had. "But there is a chance you will not survive the Joining."

"And Darus and Theron... they'll die anyway, basically, if they don't do the Joining. Since they're..." Alim paused, his eyes going wide. "They're _already_ tainted. So we..." He gulped, his skin, if it was possible, went even more pale. "I see. I see now."

"That's why we keep it secret," Alistair said softly, almost guiltily. "Otherwise... well, _nobody_ would want to become a Warden."

Serena placed a warm hand on the elf's shoulder. "I would understand if you changed your mind, Alim."

To her surprise, Alim shook his head, his dark mane of hair shaking back and forth like a horse shaking its head. "No, no. I still want to be a Warden, whatever the cost. I know this may sound strange, but I still feel like the Grey Wardens is... is where I belong."

"We're lucky to have you, no matter the outcome," said Alistair. Swinging his sword idly at a nearby branch, he frowned as it began to glow blue.

Serena pulled her daggers, nodding to Alim as he readied his staff. "Looks like we have company."

* * *

><p>Alim tried not to appear overly nervous as he waited with the other two men in preparation for the Joining ritual. He had been waiting weeks, months really, to finally become on of the Grey, and now it was time.<p>

Glancing over at Theron and Darus, he felt his stomach squirm, just as it had before his Harrowing. The two men had been resting most of the day, yet they still seemed weak. Surely of all three of them, he would be able to survive the Joining, Alim thought dismally. Darus, in particular, already seemed to have one foot in the grave. Though the fact that they had reached the King's camp in such a condition showed how hearty they had been before becoming tainted by the darkspawn.

Idly, Alim wondered if given the choice now, if Serena or Alistair would still choose to become a Grey Warden. He remembered what Leliana had told him one night as they'd kept watch by the fire... that Serena had been orphaned, her parents and nearly the rest of her family murdered by Rendon Howe. And how Alistair had grown up unloved by family who didn't know or want him, and ha been raised mostly in the Chantry's abbey at Redcliffe.

Both of them had found a second home, and a place with each other, in the Wardens.

And wasn't that all Alim wanted, too? Now he could no longer live within the protective walls of Circle Tower, what place could he call home? Who could he call family? And even there, other than Jowan, who could he even call friend?

Here he had friends, good ones. Friends who consistently stuck their necks out for him, and stuck up for him, and protected him from templars and Loghain's minions, and others. He even had a lover, sort of, in the enigmatic witch, Morrigan.

But was enduring the Joining ritual worth risking his life? Shaking his head, he thought surely it couldn't be as dire as the Wardens made it seem... Serena and Alistair and Riordan and countless others had survived, and Serena was now with child even. Though when she and Alistair had broken the news, both seemed as surprised by the announcement as their companions had.

Leliana, of course, had been ecstatic. She had nearly jumped out of her seat to clutch the two in an excited hug. Morrigan had been less enthusiastic, peppering Serena with questions she could not answer. Alim though, and probably Serena too, he thought, could see past this and knew that the fierce witch meant well, deep down.

Zevran had simply insisted that they name the boy after him. "Because of course it will be a debonair young man, destined to break hearts up and down the coasts of Ferelden."

Alim himself had only wondered if the baby had fought the Taint via its pure existence. Serena had her own natural powers, enhanced by the Lady of the Forest, she'd told him, and the dwarven gloves she wore. Alistair still retained some, if not all, of his templar abilities... meaning both parents had magic, in a form, and Alim could not wait to meet the child and see if it, too, carried any of the _specialness_ that marked it as a mage.

It was a selfish thought, perhaps, to hope a child is a mage, but Alim could not help but think what that may do for the future of mages. If not just in Ferelden, but across all of Thedas, too.

Shaking himself slightly, Alim frowned. No matter what good it would do for the plight of mages, it was an awful thought to wish magical ability, and thus lifelong judgment and persecution, upon his friends' unborn child. But the thought was tempting all the same...

"I apologize for the wait," Serena said, appearing out of the gloom. "We have one more recruit."

"All elves? The shem too scared to take the plunge?" Kallian followed Serena as they joined the loose circle the men were standing in. "So what do we do now?"

"Serena will say the words," Riordan said in his light accent. "As she is our most junior member of the order."

"_You're_ the most junior member?" Kallian asked, incredulous. "Commander Cousland, baby Warden."

"Hard to believe, I know," Serena said with a laugh. "But it's me and then His Highness over here..." Serena inclined her head in Alistair's direction. Clearing her throat, she stood up straight, an appearance of authority emanating from her.

"_Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows, where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn_." Serena paused, taking in a deep breath. "_And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day... we shall join you_."

Riordan held out the enormous chalice that held the darkspawn blood, among other things, before him. "Who will go first?"

"I will."

The deep voice belonged to the taller of the two Dalish men, Theron. A large tattoo extended out across his face from his eyebrows, like the rays of a sun, or the branches of a tree, making him appear more wild than anyone, or anything, Alim had ever encountered. He seemed a part of the forest himself, like he belonged nowhere else. Perhaps it was fitting they did the Joining within this cove of dark leaves.

Taking the cup from Riordan, the elven man lifted it quickly to his lips and drank. Closing his eyes, he frowned, the ball in his throat bobbing up and down as he managed to swallow some of the contents. Dropping to one knee, he coughed, passing the cup to Darus with one hand.

"_Lath sulevin lath araval ena. Dareth shiral_." Nodding weakly to his friend, Darus drank from the cup, and like Theron, fell to his knees. The cup barely reached Alistair's outstretched hands before he collapsed completely on the forest floor. Alistair passed the cup to Alim as Riordan moved forward, placing a hand over Darus' neck.

"He is gone."

"What did he say to you?" Kallian demanded of Theron in a quick whisper.

"He... he knew he would not make it." Theron's voice was thick as he placed one hand on the ground to steady himself. He would survive the taint, but it was obviously not a pleasant experience. "Be certain in need, and the path will emerge."

"Huh?"

"That is what he said."

"What does that mean?"

"I would not expect a flat-ear to know," Theron replied tersely, his eyes narrowed at the small woman. "You must retain nothing in the city."

"Tree humper," Kallian mumbled. Turning, she eyed Alim expectantly. "Well? You gonna drink that or not? It's not like it's going to get any tastier."

Without answering, or perhaps as an answer, Alim brought the cup to his lips and drank.

* * *

><p>They were on horseback again. Serena, Alistair and most of her guard. Most of her companions, those of which who were not riding on horses or marching along beside, were riding in the wagons that would accompany them to Redcliffe. Only Alim was missing, as he had fainted during the Joining.<p>

He'd survived it, but like Serena, he'd passed out directly after drinking from the Joining chalice. Serena had thought it best he stay in the main camp while they rode to Redcliffe, since he hadn't bounced back as easily as the others. They would only be gone a day or two, and the travel would impair his already slow recovery.

Kallian, surprisingly, had only swayed a little on her feet, after swallowing the last large gulp of darkspawn blood and lyrium. Alistair had been prepared to catch her, as he had Serena many months ago, but the slight elven woman hadn't needed his assistance. Alistair had guessed she remained standing through sheer gutsiness. She was riding a fat gray pony and grumbling, quite audibly, about it just behind Serena and Alistair as they followed the high road to Redcliffe village.

"You stupid, fat thing! Are you planning on eating everything between here and Redcliffe?" The blonde elf clicked her heels uselessly against the pony's sides. The horse was intent on its meal of fresh green weeds, and simply flicked it's tail in annoyance at Kallian for her trouble.

"Serena, Kallian is falling behind." Alistair brought his stallion up next to her mare in a strange ungainly two-step. He was still not entirely comfortable on the back of a horse, king or no. "You could, you know, _convince_ it to keep moving."

"Buttercup is pretty willful, isn't he?" Serena glanced over her shoulder as she trotted her own pony further along. "Kallian ought to learn how to ride properly. It's not impossible. _You_ manage." She shrugged. "This might teach her a bit about patience, too."

Alistair snorted. "You sound like Wynne."

"Oh, yuck. Really?" Serena made a face, her mouth turning down into an uncharacteristic frown. "In that case-" She closed her eyes briefly in concentration, reaching out with her mind along down the road to where Buttercup was gorging himself on grass. Serena could hear Kallian's surprised squeal as her pony suddenly abandoned the patch of green and kicked into a high gallop.

"Whoa, whoa! I didn't even know you could move this fast, you chunky mule!" Kallian bounced in the saddle past a giggling Serena, nearly helpless as the fat pony raced by. "Why don't you trot like a normal horse?"

"What did you tell it?" Alistair whispered.

"Apparently there is a huge hay bale up the road, just waiting to be eaten." Serena laughed again, knowing the image of Kallian bouncing and screaming as the horse carried her away would become a treasured memory. "I don't know how Buttercup managed to get that idea."

Alistair nodded sagely, his own mouth pulling into a grin. "The world is full of mysteries."

* * *

><p>They reached the outskirts of Redcliffe just as the sun was beginning its descent in the sky. The road leading to the town had been strangely devoid of its usual traffic, making everyone on high alert for danger. As they neared the bridge, they saw slaughtered cattle on the side of the road, their heads completely torn off. Beyond, a small farmhouse was smoldering.<p>

"Oh, this bodes well," Kallian mumbled, her face set in a frown as she surveyed the damaged farmhold.

"It's you! The Grey Warden!" A young man with dark hair and a small beard hailed them from just beyond the bridge, his face red from running.

Alistair snorted as he drove his horse to a stop beside Serena. "Imagine that. The King of Ferelden comes riding up, looking very stately, I might add, and the man only has eyes for _you_."

Serena shrugged, a small smile on her face. "What can I say, love? I'm famous."

"Andraste's mercy you got here when you did..." The man leaned hard on his knees, slowly catching his breath. "I thought for sure those monsters were going to get me."

"Darkspawn," Alistair said, shaking his head slightly. He could sense them, like a pulsing mass. It was the biggest group they'd faced yet, most definitely. "Most of them must have come from the west, through the mountains. Nothing is tainted on this side, save those cows."

"Or they haven't been here long," Serena added. "Is Teagan here? And Arl Eamon?"

"They all fled to the castle this morning, my lady. Before the darkspawn arrived. I thought I could make it to my home and back before they got here, but it took me too long..." The young man shook his head as he stared at the burning roof of a nearby home. "I'm sure the darkspawn have reached the village by now, but I can take you there, if you have a spare sword..." He flopped his hands at his sides pathetically, as if he needed to illustrate the point that he was unarmed.

"Of course," Serena replied, nodding quickly to Samuell who pulled a short sword from his saddlebags and handed it over to the young man. "If the village hasn't been taken, we can corner them in the center of town, trapping them in. We must protect the castle, at all costs."

Turning to the rest of her men, she raised her voice. "Alright, first company is with Alistair and Kallian. You'll follow this young man into the village. Second company, you lot are with me and Samuell. We're going to split west and flank them from the side."

"Commander? Should I sent ahead a scout for the west bank?" Samuell asked.

"Yes, and send two to the castle. Eamon's army should have arrived before yesterday, but I want to know what is going on up there." Serena turned to the final Grey Warden at her disposal. "Theron?"

The large elf stepped forward, bowing his head slightly. Color had already returned to his face, what you could see of it beyond the tattoo. "Yes, Commander."

"You will be one of those scouts. Protect the castle, and we will join you and-" Serena turned to Samuell again.

"Donally, Cartwright, go with Theron," the captain called. "Move!" The three men quickly started up a side path that bypassed the village completely and headed for the castle.

"Okay, just like before men." Serena jockeyed her horse around, raising a small sword she carried at her hip for more inspirational moments, as her daggers were not very impressive from further away. "We've handled the darkspawn before. Let's hit them hard, and show them exactly what it means to call yourself a Fereldan!"

* * *

><p>They had ogres.<p>

Most of the men, save for a few who survived Ostagar and had made their way to the capital, or back to Redcliffe, had yet to see one of the enormous beast up close.

"Avoid its' hands!" shouted Zevran as he and two other men danced around the giant darkspawn. "They're weak in the knees and the eyes, if you can reach one."

Over his head, Leliana loosened an arrow, landing it squarely in the eye of the ogre. The ogre roared, one fist going up to its injured eye where it drove the arrow deeper into its own skull. Tottering momentarily, the ogre swayed, its massive arm falling to the side as Zevran shouted for everyone to get out of the way.

"I've never seen one kill itself before!" bellowed one of Serena's guardsmen as the giant darkspawn thumped into the dirt.

Driving his short sword into the chest of a hurlock, Zevran smiled as another arrow sailed past his ear.

"Just in case!" Leliana called from the Chantry's roof. The redhead was crouched on the roof, quickly picking off darkspawn as they scrambled to fight back the two halves of Serena's small army.

Zevran glanced around, his eyes automatically finding his companions in the fray. Morrigan was casting spells, her staff lighting up the growing darkness of the village. It seemed she had developed a routine with Sten, as she froze darkspawn, and he cut them down. Line after line of darkspawn were felled, but still more came, and Zevran began to wonder how many were actually here. Would they see the archdemon once again? Surely it was big enough to see if it was lurking about... but perhaps he should find some higher ground in which to scout.

Driving his short sword into another genlock, he made his way to the Chantry doors, where Alistair was doing battle with two darkspawn emissaries at once. His sword was glowing nearly as brightly as Morrigan's staff as he cut across the two, his templar abilities surely helping him as they disabled the darkspawn from using their own crude magics.

Putting all of his weight behind him, Zevran watched as Alistair swung his sword in a great arc, decapitating both monsters in turn.

"If only we had a painter to capture this kingly moment, Your Majesty," Zevran called. He saw Alistair flash a quick grin as he engaged another darkspawn, this one a massive hurlock, nearly a foot taller than himself.

"Well, you just keep up the good work, there, Zevran. With your... quips and jokes..." The big blonde took down another darkspawn. "Shouldn't you be down here fighting?"

Zevran pulled himself up onto the Chantry's low-hanging roof, nodded quickly to Leliana before turning back around, his eyes scanning the gloomy lakeside. "I thought I'd get up here for a better perspective on things. See if we're nearly done with these darkspawn, or if perhaps we're in for something... _bigger_."

"Big- ohhh." Alistair looked around quickly, as if the archdemon itself was about the come crashing through the trees. "I don't hear it!" he shouted. "Do you know where Serena is? Can you see her?"

"Ah." Zevran held up a hand, squinting through the darkness to locate the brunette. "She's with Oghren and some of her guard. The dwarf is cutting a passage to the castle, by the looks of it."

"And she's alright?"

"Looks to be- oof!" Zevran slipped, his foot coming out from under him as an arrow narrowly missed his face. In a flash, Leliana's small white hand had grabbed him, pulling him back from the edge of the roof.

"That was nearly the end of you," the redhead chided lightly, dropping Zevran's hand to retrieve her bow. "What are you doing up here anyway?"

"Looking for the archdemon," Zevran replied sheepishly. It sounded rather stupid now that he said it out loud.

"And you didn't think to simply ask me?"

"I... no. No, I did not."

Leliana rolled her eyes, her arm coming up to center an arrow on another darkspawn. "Typical."

* * *

><p>The road up to Redcliffe Castle was covered in darkspawn bodies. Theron and the others had been busy, apparently.<p>

Oghren let out a low whistle of appreciation as they stepped past a hurlock that had been cleaved in two. "I knew that elf was a maniac, but this is some serious death dealing."

"We _did_ tell them to protect the castle," Serena muttered.

"My lady, you're here! Thank goodness!" Murdock, the leader of Redcliffe's small militia, ran out of a building near the castle gate, two other guardsmen with him. "Your men here..." He pointed to Theron, who was near the castle doors, with Samuell's two men flanking him on either side, "They nearly retook the castle grounds on their own."

Glancing up to where Theron, Donally and Cartwright stood, Serena noticed the Dalish man looked more in his element than she had ever seen him. A warrior through and through, both his blades were dripping darkspawn blood on to the castle stones. Where Samuell's men looked near exhausted, Theron looked relaxed, as if he could keep up this pace indefinitely. It was certainly a change from how he had looked prior to the Joining days before.

Turning back to Murdock, she addressed the militiaman. He looked like he had been through a few scrapes himself. "Before Theron arrived, what happened?"

"I don't rightly know. Riordan of the Grey Wardens arrived this morning, just ahead of the darkspawn. I was told that he had urgent news, and to send out patrols to watch for your arrival. Then we were attacked..."

"Wait, Riordan is here? Where is the Arl?"

"In the castle, my lady. He arrived two days ago, with more men. As for the Warden, I don't rightly know." The bearded man shook his head. "Things happened so fast, I only know he was scouting ahead for the army before he arrived. I should take you to the hall right away, my lady. They'll be waiting for you there."

Turning to Kallian, she whispered, "If you could find Alistair and the others, bring them up to the castle as soon as you can. We'll meet you in the great hall."

For once, the elf simply nodded and turned, hustling quickly back down the path, her long blonde hair swinging side to side. Serena sighed, her stomach slowly twisting into knots, whether it was over this 'urgent news' of Riordan's, or perhaps an ominous message from her unborn child, she didn't know. Either way, she would brace herself for the worst.


	82. Chapter 82

**Author's Note:** Happy Holidays to all, and a special thank you to those taking the time to review. I have been extremely busy in the past month or so, but I do want to finish this story. We're getting very, very near the end. Here's a short chapter, a new one should be up in the next couple of days.

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 82<span>__ - How Cryptic of You, Dear Sir_

Serena was used to Riordan looking grave. The man would look somber even if a herd of fluffy bunnies surrounded him and threatened to snuggle him until he smiled.

"It's a relief to see you unharmed, my lady. And you as well, Alistair. Or should I say your Majesty?"

"Err, no. No, I wouldn't say that. Not yet, anyway." Alistair shrugged, his body looking extra massive in his armor. He glanced around the hall, as if he hadn't really seen it before. Maybe it looked different to him, now that he was in a great position of power. At Redcliffe, he had never been on solid footing. "You remember our fellow Wardens, Theron and Kallian." He gestured to the two Wardens.

"Yes, of course. It is also good to see you both. Where is the mage? Alim?"

"Still recovering," Serena replied. "He is with the remaining army in our Bannorn camp."

"Which brings me to our news," Riordan said. "The darkspawn that attacked Redcliffe were relatively few in number, I'm afraid. It was assumed the horde was marching in this direction... but that is not true."

Eamon cleared his throat. "Riordan tells us the bulk of the horde is, in fact, heading toward Denerim. They are perhaps two days away from the capital."

Beside her, Alistair cursed softly. "Are we sure about that? I mean... if that's true... I thought we were relatively certain the horde was near here? When did that change?"

"I have ventured close enough to the order to 'listen in', as it were. I am quite sure." Riordan turned to face the fire at the end of the hall, his back to them all. "The darkspawn line is wide, and many roam away from the horde. Until now, most have been spotted here in the west."

"Not to mention we've been too busy killing each other to pay much attention to some silly old darkspawn horde," Alistair joked.

"There is another piece of news that is of even greater concern," Riordan said, ignoring Alistair. "The Archdemon has shown itself."

"Finally," Kallian mumbled.

The oldest Warden turned around, his mouth set in a line. "The dragon is at the head of the horde."

"Maker preserve us," Teagan breathed. Serena crossed her arms over the her chest, bowing her head in a quick prayer to the Maker.

"But we can't reach Denerim in two days, can we?" Alistair looked to the others for confirmation. "It's too far."

"We must begin a forced march to the capital immediately, with what we have." Eamon looked about the room as if expecting someone to argue his logic. "Denerim must be defended at all costs."

"And only the Grey Wardens can defeat the Archdemon," Riordan added. "In fact-"

"Then we will get there," Alistair interrupted. "We'll march, and hope the army we've collected can give us the chance we need."

"I will need to go to the aviary- the rest of the army can start marching to Denerim now, Alim among them. I need to contact the dwarves, Fergus, Cauthrien..." Serena put a hand to her braid, tugging on it gently in frustration. She couldn't let the stress of the situation overwhelm her, especially with the baby growing inside her. Wynne had warned her too much stress could cause the baby harm as well. "Kallian, please go find Samuell and tell him to write missives to my brother and Cauthrien and send them with one of my personal ravens within the hour."

"Right." The small elven girl disappeared through the door and into the hall beyond, her blonde hair bouncing happily. She seemed relieved to have something to do besides stand in place or march along.

"My friends, I'm afraid the emergence of the archdemon is not the end of the matter, nor is reaching the capital." Riordan wrung his hands, and it was obvious the older Grey Warden was about to deliver more bad news. "I had thought, perhaps, that with... well, you are both new recruits, and Duncan wouldn't have expected... what happened at Ostagar-"

"I will give the orders at once," the arl interrupted suddenly. Serena hadn't noticed how he and Teagan had moved off towards one side, far away from the Grey Wardens. He turned towards Alistair now. "I will notify you the moment we are ready to march."

"That would be appreciated," Alistair said politely, obviously distracted by Riordan cryptic speech.

"Perhaps you and Alistair should meet me before you retire for the evening," Riordan murmured to Serena, just barely loud enough for her to hear. "There are... things we need to speak of."

"I will have someone show you to your rooms," Eamon added. "I suggest you all get some rest, while you can. We will need it."

Serena glanced at Alistair sidelong, her stomach giving a curious thump.

* * *

><p>"What do you suppose this is about?"<p>

"Hmm. Super secret Grey Warden business, I'd imagine." Serena kept pace at Alistair's side as they traveled through the stone halls of Redcliffe castle. "Do you think it has to do with Ostagar? With Cailan's body?"

Alistair frowned, his forehead creasing in deep thought. "Do you think he found Duncan?" he asked quietly.

"We couldn't, with all the snow and... I mean, I suppose we didn't have time to look forever." Serena sighed, not knowing how she felt about that line of thought. Would she want to know details of Duncan's assuredly grisly fate? Riordan wasn't exactly known to sugar-coat the unpleasant.

They had finally reached the door of the room the older Grey Warden was staying in and Serena reached out a hand to knock. _Rap-rap-rap_. The sound echoed down the empty hallway. Nearly everyone was back in their rooms after dinner. The door opened with barely a whisper, and Riordan smiled at them.

"It is both of you, good." He gestured them in, quickly taking a place near two chairs Serena could only assume were meant for them. Alistair plopped down in the larger of the two while Serena chose to stand beside him.

"Please know, I assumed you had already been told. Otherwise, I would have told you when you freed me in Denerim. I am sorry."

"What is it? What are you apologizing for?" Alistair asked.

"Is this about Duncan?"

Riordan shook his head. "Duncan? Well, yes, I suppose... in a way, yes." Riordan paced, his eyes focused on the intricate pattern sewn into the rug. "Tell me, have you ever wondered why the Grey Wardens are needed to defeat the darkspawn?"

"Only every day of my life," Alistair muttered. "Not only the darkspawn, mind you. Seems everyone wants a Grey Warden solving their problems..."

"I assumed it had something to do with the Taint," Serena added, pulling the conversation back in.

"That is exactly what it involves. The archdemon may be slain, as any other darkspawn, but should any other than a Grey Warden do the slaying, it will not be enough." Riordan looked up from his pacing, stopped, and frowned. "The essence of the beast will pass through the taint to the nearest darkspawn and will be reborn anew in that body. The dragon is thus all but immortal."

Alistair scowled. "Immortal? Then how do we-"

"If the archdemon is slain by a Grey Warden," Riordan continued. "It's essence travels into the Grey Warden instead. The darkspawn is an empty, soulless vessel, but a Grey Warden is not. The essence of the archdemon is destroyed... and so is the Grey Warden."

At that, Serena sat down.

"Meaning the... the Grey Warden who kills the archdemon... dies?" Alistair unconsciously reached for Serena's hand.

"Yes. Without the archdemon, the Blight ends. The darkspawn require some form of leadership in order to continue their purge of the land. It is the only way."

"Is there really no other way? I..." Serena thought of the child inside her. "Must a Grey Warden die? Alistair is to be king, and-"

"As far as we know, the transfer of the archdemon's essence is automatic. If one of us is not present when the killing blow is made, it is all for nothing." Riordan shook his head, looking at once infinitely sad. "There is no other way. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"And that's why the secrets," Serena mumbled. "I thought... it all makes sense now."

Riordan nodded. "Yes, it is the same reason we keep the Joining a secret. Who would become a Grey Warden if they knew the end that might await them? And yet... there must be Grey Wardens. Without us, there is no hope."

"That leaves.. what? Five, six of us?"

"In Blights past, when the time came, the eldest of the Grey Wardens would decide which amongst them would take that final blow," Riordan replied. "With half our number barely days into their new calling... and Alistair and yours joint duties to come... I think, if possible, the final blow should be mine to make. I am the eldest, and the taint will not spare me much longer."

"But if I fail, the deed fails upon the rest of you. The Blight must be stopped now, or it will destroy all of Ferelden before the rest of the Grey Wardens can assemble. Remember that." Riordan moved towards the door and Serena and Alistair stood. "There will be much to do tomorrow and little enough time to rest before it. I will let you return to your rooms."

"I will see you once the army is ready to march, then." Alistair squeezed Serena's hand quickly, before nodding to Riordan. "I guess this ends soon, one way or another."

"That it does, my friend, that it does." Bowing his head to Serena, Riordan smiled another of his sad smiles. "I hope I have not soiled your evening with too terrible of thoughts, my lady."

"I... no, it's... it's our duty. If you'll excuse us. Good, err, evening." Serena swiftly exited Riordan's room, tugging Alistair with her. They heard his door shut behind them as they moved down the hall.

"I wasn't expecting _that_," Alistair mumbled. He glanced at Serena as they moved past the kitchens towards the second story stair. "I mean, I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't that one of us will have to sacrifice ourselves to take down that bloody dragon. We killed that damn dragon that protected the Urn... _that_ didn't require any soul squashing!"

"Alistair, hush. At least wait until we're back in our rooms."

"I don't know how you're managing to stay so calm," Alistair insisted. "I knew as king I'd be ordering people to their doom on occasion, but this is just..." He sighed, hanging back a bit from the door outside Serena's room. "I think I'd rather just... call it a night, to be honest. Suddenly I feel very tired and if I know Eamon, he'll have me up before the sun."

"Goodnight, love." Serena pushed up on her toes and kissed Alistair's nose.

"Goodnight." He gave her a tight squeeze, then whispered. "It'll all work out. It has to."

Serena stood in the hallway, watching as Alistair disappeared down the hall to his much larger quarters. They usually stayed together, but she could tell he would not sleep this evening, instead spending it cleaning his sword, or pacing, as he usually did when something he could not change plagued him.

Surrendering herself to her own worrisome thoughts, Serena slipped into her room, only to find the familiar silhouette of Morrigan standing before the hearth of her fireplace. Peanut sat curled up on the rug beside her, snoring softly. The room was quite cozy and warm from the roaring fire, though Serena couldn't help but feel cold.

"Do not be alarmed," the witch purred. "It is only I."


	83. Chapter 83

**Author's Note: **This chapter is a little late getting out, my apologies. I have been swamped with projects. I have most of the next chapter written out, so bearing time constraints, I should have it wrapped by next week. Thanks to all of you reading and reviewing, it means quite a lot every time I get a message in my inbox.

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter 83<span> - A Wandering Soul, Part 1_

"Good evening, Morrigan. How are you?"

She would be queen if she survived this final battle, Morrigan thought, as she watched Serena take a seat on the rug beside her hound, stroking the mutt's coat gently, waiting for Morrigan to speak. Her blue eyes were red-rimmed, from exhaustion, no doubt. She looked like she could use a warm bath more than anything else, and for a moment, Morrigan felt a pang of guilt as she knew Serena would not be able to rest for quite some time still.

"I am well, Serena. 'Tis you who are in danger." She would not turn to face Serena. She didn't want to see her face. "I have a plan, you see. A way out. The... loop in your hole. I know what happens when the archdemon dies. I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed, and that sacrifice could be you. I have come to tell you... this does not need to be."

"What? I..." Serena shook her head, as if trying to clear it. "What do you mean you _know_? How?"

Morrigan smiled, and knew her face must have been relaying a certain amount of arrogance. "I know a great many things. How I know is not quite as important as what I am offering you, however. I offer a way out. A way out for all the Grey Wardens, that there need be no sacrifice. Not for you, or Alim, or... Alistair. The blonde, the Dalish man... and any others that may be fool enough to try. I can protect you all."

"You can? How? Riordan said-"

"He would not know of it. This ritual... performed on the eve of the blood moon, in the dark of night... it is old magic, from a time before the Circle of Magi was created. Some may call it blood magic, but that is but a name. There is far more to fear in this world than names." The witch paused, looking unsure of how to continue. She did not want to spook Serena. "Only few know it, my mother among them, and now... since you procured her Grimoire for me, I have known about it for some time now."

Serena frowned, quickly working out what that meant. "So you knew about the sacrifice before Riordan told me?"

"I did," Morrigan replied. "Would you have believed me if I had been the one to tell you?" She raised one delicate black eyebrow. "I have my doubts."

"Perhaps that's true," Serena said with a small shrug. "So what's this loophole?"

"What I propose is this: convince Alistair to lay with me. Here, tonight. And from this ritual a child shall be conceived within me. The child will bear the taint, and when the archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon." Morrigan paced the room as she spoke before she finally took a seat near the fire. "At this early stage, the child can absorb that essence and not perish. The archdemon is still destroyed, with no Grey Warden dying in the process. You and Alistair shall be safe."

"What about the child? Would it... become... would it change? From the taint?" Serena put her hands to her temples, trying to think through everything Morrigan just told her. "Wouldn't it become a darkspawn itself? Would it harm you?"

"Not at all. It will become something different... a child with the soul of an Old God." Morrigan's voice sounded intoxicated and husky, as if this was something one should be exhilarated by. "After this is done, you allow me to walk away... and you do _not_ follow. _Ever_. The child will be mine to raise as I wish." The witch's golden eyes bored into Serena's. "I know you, Serena. You mustn't follow me. It is the price I require in exchange for my saving all of your lives."

"I haven't agreed, and you haven't saved anything yet."

Morrigan scoffed. "Do not be stupid, Serena. It is the only way. This is the reason why my mother sent me with you. Did you not wonder why Flemeth saved your life, why she aided you? This is why!"

"Why Alistair? Why not Alim? We could-"

"I have thought this through, Serena. It must be tonight. The child must be conceived tonight. And if you care for Alistair as you seem to, you will convince him to do this. Consider what the alternative might be... one or both of you die, the baby you carry inside you... lost."

Serena felt hallow. _The baby_. Closing her eyes, she sunk into one of Eamon's plush chairs. She didn't think this evening could have gotten much worse, yet here they were.

"The loss to Ferelden would be even greater," Morrigan continued. "It's new king, and future queen and heir..." She made a soft clucking noise with her tongue, as if she was disappointed that Serena had not come up with them herself. "I think you have many good reasons to tell him to save his own life. I think you should consider them carefully."

"And what of this child you plan to bring into the world," Serena murmured. "What happens to it?"

"Allow me to say that what I seek is the essence of the Old God that once was, and not the dark forces that corrupted it. Some things are... worth preserving in this world. I learned that from you."

"Fine."

"Hm?"

"I said fine, Morrigan. I will speak with Alistair." Serena ran a hand through her hair. Her limbs felt heavy. Her whole body felt burdened, as burdened as her heart and mind now were, it seemed.

"A wise decision. I shall wait here, then, while you go and speak with Alistair." Morrigan pulled Serena to her feet. "I urge you to be... convincing."

* * *

><p>Every step down the hallway towards Alistair's room felt heavier and heavier. Serena's worry over the future had finally come to a head. She had often felt on this journey that she hadn't really had a decision; things happened, usually awful, and she had done what she thought was best. Her group had been exceptionally lucky... some serious injuries, and but nobody had died.<p>

And now one of them would most assuredly die. Unless she did something about it.

She knocked swiftly, harder than she meant to, but Alistair must have been near the door anyway, as he opened it right up. He smiled when he saw her, and Serena felt her heart thump uncomfortably.

"I see you can't sleep, either," he said, stepped to one side to let her in. He had changed out his more formal clothes and padded armor and into the light sleeping clothes he wore at night. Alistair eyed her, and Serena knew he noticed she had not changed yet. He usually jovial face went dark. "Come in, love."

Someone had set his fireplace going, and Serena gravitated towards it, towards its simple heat. "I'm sorry for barging in," she said softly.

"I'm not. Though, I haven't seen you look this upset since the Alienage... sit down. Tell me what's wrong." Alistair took a seat in the chair opposite her, leaning forward expectantly on his knees. "It's Morrigan, isn't it? I saw her outside your room earlier, and the look she gave me... that was icy, even for her." He frowned. "What has she done this time?"

"You're brilliant, you know. People don't give you a lot of credit in that department, I think it's because you make such cheesy jokes... but you really are one of the smartest people I know." Serena smiled weakly. "I love you."

"I love you, too, but... what? What is going on?"

"I... we have to talk. I have... news."

Alistair raised an eyebrow skeptically. "This is what I get for becoming king, you know. Everyone always brings you the bad news." He sighed. "So what is it, then? Rats running amok in the larder? Cheese supplies run low? I can take it."

"Morrigan wants to do... a bit of magic. A ritual. Tonight." When Alistair said nothing, Serena took a deep breath and continued. "It involves you."

"She's going to turn me into a toad, isn't she?" Alistair said. He nodded to himself, his face serious, as if he had been expecting this for days, weeks even. "I knew it. I knew this day was coming." He shook his head, mouth twisted up. "She's been planning this all along, I bet. It would cause chaos, you know, with Loghain dead and Anora... Sweet Maker, Anora would take control of the throne again-"

"Alistair, she doesn't want to turn you into a toad."

"So then-"

"She wants... she wants to perform a ritual that will... that will protect us from the Archdemon. From... from what Riordan told us we have to... She knew about it." Serena took another deep breath and the words quickly began to tumble out. "She said she knew all along, about how it would be one of us, one of the Wardens, that one of _us_ would have to _die_ in order to stop the Archdemon, but... but Morrigan said there's a ritual. A ritual that can stop it. That can changes things so we don't have to die."

"Dark magic, I bet. Blood magic." Alistair leaned back in his armchair and drummed his fingers against his pajama-clad knee. "My templar sense was tingling, you know."

"It's probably blood magic, or older than blood magic, I don't know... but she needs you in order to complete the ritual. It has to be tonight, and Maker knows I don't want to ask you this, but she said it had to be you and it had to be tonight and I don't want any of us to die, Alistair. I don't want us to die and I don't want to lose our baby." Serena put a hand to her mouth, feeling tears spill over her hand from her cheeks. She hadn't realized she was even crying. "I felt it kick today, I felt our baby, and I... I don't want to lose what we have."

In two steps, Alistair had stood up and crossed the short span between their chairs, and pulled her up into his arms. "We will _never_ lose this baby. It's a gift from the Maker that we even... we are not losing this baby. I'm not losing you, and I'm not losing this baby. We'll find a way." He held her tight and Serena's face pressed into the striped cloth of his night clothes. "Tell me about the ritual."

"She said you... you..." Serena choked back another round of sobs. "You have to lie with her. Tonight. It's to... to make a baby... that will..." Another stream of tears leaked out her eyes as her voice muffled itself against his chest. "A baby that will... will absorb the soul of, of the Ar-r-r-chdemon."

"She _what?_" Alistair shifted Serena back a bit. His eyes were wide as he tried to understand what she was saying. "Calm down, calm down. She wants to what?" When she opened her mouth to repeat herself, Alistair held up a hand. "No, no, I heard you. That's just _crazy_. Morrigan wants to... wants to... sleep with me, to have an... archdemon baby."

She nodded. "_Y-y-your_ archdemon baby," Serena stammered out in between hiccups.

"Of course! _My_ archdemon baby. How can I forget that it will, in fact, be _my_ bastard archdemon baby? That is... that is a totally sane thing to want, you know. From a _completely_ sane person. And we... you and I... are completely _INSANE_ for even entertaining this craziness. We have officially lost our minds."

"I know how it sounds, but..."

"But it's actually serious." Alistair shook his head. "Wow, by killed by the archdemon or sleep with Morrigan. How does someone make that kind of choice?" He frowned. "Why would she even want such a thing? Does she want an heir to the throne? Why doesn't she have Alim do it, he's a Warden, too."

"He's not here, and it has to be tonight."

"I... Maker, Serena. Are you sure? Are you sure this is what you want me to do?"

"Of course I don't want you to do it, but... I..." Serena clutched at her tummy compulsively. "I... I don't know that we have a choice in the matter. Please... trust me. Trust in us."

"Trust you? I... Of course I trust you, Serena. I'm doing this for you, for our baby." Alistair sighed, his face looking more strained than she had seen it. He rubbed his face, his eyes, his temples, as if trying to push away an approaching headache. "Where is she? Let's... get this over with before I... change my mind."

* * *

><p>Morrigan was waiting in her room, her back to them as they came in. "'Twould seem your talk is done, I take it?"<p>

"Great. So this isn't a dream after all," Alistair murmured. His voice sounded scratchy to Serena, and she felt her eyes burn with tears. "I can't believe I agreed to this."

Morrigan turned, her golden eyes flipping between the two of them. "What is it to be, then? Has a decision been reached?"

"Alistair has agreed to your... request," Serena said softly.

"You know, dinner would have been nice... maybe a bit of wine? Or you could knock me out, first..."

"Tempting." Morrigan narrowed her eyes at Alistair. "Still, I am glad to see that it has been done. Let us go somewhere more private, Alistair. And believe me when I say you will not hate this quite so much as you believe."

"I don't know, I believe I'll hate this quite a lot." He shook his head, looking quite miserable.

"Morrigan... do you have to... Maker, I can't..." Serena shook her head and fled the room, her hands over her face.

"Great, nicely done," Alistair replied. His face was set in hard lines as he followed Morrigan to the bedroom. "Let me ask you, do you even care about her at all? Serena..." He paused, frowning. "Serena is to be my _wife_... my _queen_. I..."

Morrigan rounded on him quickly, jabbing a finger at his chest. "She is the closest thing I have ever had to a sister, fool. If there were any other way to save her life, I would do it." The witch turned and dropped grimly on the bed. "There is no other way."

"I never thought I would ever sleep with anyone other than her," Alistair said quietly. "You promise this will keep her alive? It will keep us alive? All of us alive?"

Golden eyes narrowed on him again and Alistair had to look away from the woman. For a second he wondered if this demon baby would have those eyes. He shivered.

"Do you honestly believe I would subject myself to your inept caresses if I didn't know this would produce what I said it would? You act as if I've been plotting this all along."

Alistair turned dubious eyes on the witch. "Haven't you?"

"No. When I found out _why_ a Grey Warden is necessary to destroy the archdemon..." Morrigan sighed. "As little as I care for _you_, Serena... is like a sister to me. She has always looked out for me, always been there when I needed her. I would... I could never allow... if she didn't die killing the archdemon, surely you would, and she would be lost to us all anyway. The only way to protect _her_ is to protect you _both_. Not to mention that tiny... you... growing inside her now."

"I love her."

"Anyone who looked at the two of you together could see that," Morrigan replied caustically. "Serena would rather die than allow harm come to you. She has told me as much. As much as this is hurting her now, in the end... it will be worth it. Serena knows that. She would not have come to you otherwise."

They sat in silence for awhile, both simply staring ahead. Finally Alistair sighed heavily, and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Let's just... get this over with."


	84. Chapter 84

**Author's Note: **My apologies for the slow pace, I've had to combat writer's block as well as a lack of time. I promise I'll finish this story out, though! Thank you to all those reading, both new and old.

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><p>Chapter 84<em> - A Wandering Soul, Part 2<em>

Serena was pacing.

They were in her room, or Alistair's room... she wasn't quite sure. She had fled, of that she was sure. The enormity of the situation finally washing over her as Morrigan spoke so casually... so Serena had fled. Down the hall and into the library where she had spent so much time their last visit to Redcliffe. She had collapsed into one of the plush chairs, tears leaking out of her eyes despite her attempt at batting them away, as she tried to wrap her mind around the chain of events she had set in motion.

"He's just doing what I asked, he's just doing what I asked..." she murmured over and over.

How much longer could it take? Hadn't it been long enough? Did Morrigan have to prepare some kind of... potion? Would Alistair have to drink it? Serena wished she had thought to ask more questions. Or didn't have any thoughts at all... Her brain was torturing her with images of them... _together_.

Standing up, Serena padded across the room and over to one of the bookcases, running her hand across the volumes. The shelves were packed with books of all kinds.

Large, hand bound books, most likely one-of-a-kind and bound solely for the Arl and his heirs. There were also smaller books, written by the more scholarly types at the Circle Tower, and bound by the Tranquil, the strangely docile ex-mages that worked there. Most were dusty, all but the most recently touched, most likely by her and some of the others from her group.

She pulled a book, _Ferelden: Folklore and History_, one of her favorites. Serena had kept a copy of it in her room, back in Castle Cousland. It had always taken her away from her stress, much in the same way praying did.

Turning to chapter 14, she settled into one of the more worn armchairs and started to read about the secret love between King Calenhad and Lady Shayna.

* * *

><p>"Serena... there you are."<p>

Alistair was standing beside her, only he was sideways. Turning her head, Serena blinked sleep out of her eyes. "I've been looking everywhere for you. When I came back, you weren't in your room, or my room. None of the others had seen you. I was worried."

The words came out in a rush, and Serena frowned. "How... what time is it?"

"Near midnight." Alistair picked her up gently and sat down in her place in the armchair, setting her in his lap. "It feels much later, though. We should already be in bed."

"What... what happened? Do I-" Serena sniffled. Her nose was clogged from her crying spell. "Do I want to know?"

"I couldn't," Alistair said. "I... meant to, but I couldn't."

Serena felt her heart drop out. "What?" Panic rose up and Serena started to shake. Where they going to die then? Morrigan had said...

"I couldn't do it. I couldn't make myself..." Alistair shook his head, his lips pursed. "I just-"

"Are we going to die?" Serena asked, her voice barely audible. "Our... what about our baby?"

"No. No." He put his hand over Serena's and squeezed it tightly. "I asked Theron to do it. I feel awful, but he was... grateful, to us, for saving him from the Taint. I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier... now he has a demon baby for an heir." Alistair frowned, his eyes scanning the ground. "Morrigan was... not happy." He paused. "Not that she ever is, but I think... I think part of her wanted a royal bastard, despite whatever she said, and I just... I'm not my father."

Serena opened her mouth to speak, but words would not come. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of Theron. She had been so hung up on it being Alistair, and with Alim being so far away from them... she had completely forgotten about the new Dalish Grey Warden.

"Thank the Maker," she whispered. She laid her head on Alistair's shoulder, letting his warmth soak into her skin.

"Do you remember what my father told us in the Gauntlet? When we were searching for the Urn? He said... he told me not to repeat his mistakes. I think this is what he meant." Alistair touched the ring on Serena's finger, his mother's ring. "He didn't choose those he loved over Ferelden, over what looked right to the nobles... over what was easy... I never want us to suffer the way he did. I couldn't go through with it. I love you too much."

He took a deep breath. "I love Ferelden, but my first responsibility is to my family. "Alistair put a hand on Serena's belly. "You and this little one are my family. I couldn't... I cant bring myself to do anything that would jeopardize that."

"I... I'm sorry I... that I brought you into this magic business..." Serena pulled him close. "If Alim had been here... she would have never even..."

"Alim is in a better position than we are to help protect Denerim," Alistair reasoned. "For that, at least, we can be thankful. Perhaps that mage... the one that looks like you, maybe they can ward the city, even. Like the way Wynne warded our camp all this time..."

"There's that choke point at the Hafter River," Serena said. "The...the Green Bridge. But that wouldn't slow them for longer than a few hours-"

"A few more hours for us to catch them. For Faren to reach Denerim, and maybe the dwarves can fortify its walls." Alistair sighed. He seemed ages older, and so very tired. "Any more talk, and we'll never get to sleep. We wake one hour before first light."

They both shuffled around, gathering themselves up to head back to Serena's room. A servant had lit a fire in her room's hearth, and Serena felt sleep push on her hard as the warmth bade her to her bed.

"I knew I was right," Serena murmured.

"Right about what, love?"

"You'll make a good king."

"Flatterer," Alistair muttered. He put one arm around her waist and slowly pulled her close.

"I learned it from you," she said.

The room was still then, and soon she could hear Alistair's soft snores from the pillow beside her. Her own pillow was soft and downy beneath her head, and staring up at the ceiling, it was only a short while before sleep took her, too.

* * *

><p>The next day Serena avoided Morrigan. It was easy, really, as Commander of the army, there was always someone to put between them, someone who needed help, advice, her eye on some aspect of... something. She could feel Morrigan's golden eyes on her, watching her every move. Serena knew the witch was waiting for a moment when she could pull Serena aside.<p>

I just won't give her that moment, Serena thought as she lead her mare over to the river. They had been marching since dawn, and this was their second break of the day. The next would be a quick lunch, with scouts returning from ahead to give them news. Serena had been receiving reports all morning, from various animals she had sent out to relay the positions of the darkspawn horde. The horde was moving swiftly east, unmistakably headed for the capital. She prayed that Alim and the others moved just as quickly, their group had almost a day and a half head start on Serena and Eamon's unit.

She had sent the fastest hawk in Eamon's aviary to catch up to Alim, the fastest according to the other hawks, at least; a bird named Lightning. Attached to his leg was a quickly scribbled note outlining Alistair's plan to destroy the Green Bridge outside Denerim, to stem the flow of darkspawn into the city.

The plan hinged on Serena's group winding south and slipping into the city via the Dregs, the poorest section for humans just to the westside of the Alienage. The plan hinged on the idea that the darkspawn knew nothing of this second entrance, built when Serena's father had been in small pants, to help refugees escape Denerim while it was under Orlesian rule.

As her mare drank, Serena sat upon one of the flattish river rocks, letting the sound of the water soothe her overactive nerves. Reaching out with her mind, she felt the nearby animals interest perk up at her call. Fish gathered in the water by her boots, flipping their tails in greeting, and a curious rabbit came out of the reeds.

"Hello friends," she said softly, reaching out to touch the soft fur of the rabbit. It snuggled it's tiny head against her fingers, unafraid of her despite her size. Perhaps it could sense she would never mean it any harm. "What can you tell me about these woods?"

"There's a great load of deer poop, for one," a voice muttered. "More deer poop than any man has a right to experience in his life." Zevran strolled down the path to the river, his boots splattered with various shades of brown. "Perhaps you could speak to the deer, my dear. Tell them not to defecate quite so much."

"I doubt I can have much sway in where the wildlife decides to take their bathroom breaks, Zev." Serena scooped up the rabbit in her arms, soothing it with her mind to offset the assassin's sudden appearance. The rabbit's already large eyes grew wider as he ducked into the crook of Serena's arm.

"You cannot avoid her forever, Blue Eyes," the blonde said, perching against the rough bark of a tree as he swiped at the filth on his boots with a large leaf. The smell of the muck wafted over and he scrunched up his nose in distaste.

Serena wasn't surprised by Zevran's comment, however offhand it might seem. He always knew what was going on, even when she didn't fully know herself. "I doubt we have forever, anyway."

"This is true. Forever is quite long, and the archdemon waits for no Warden." Zevran scrubbed carelessly at his boot before replacing it on his foot. "But as someone who has often worked to make an end come before it's time, let me tell you to be careful. You know what they say about a woman scorned, no?"

Serena groaned. "Believe me, I know. I just..." Serena dropped her voice. "We _have_ an heir already. A legitimate heir." She tapped her stomach. "What she wanted... it could cause a civil war. _Another_ civil war."

"Every day this country reminds me more and more of Antiva," the elf replied. "It becomes more selfish, more self-serving..." Zevran sighed. "Serena, I think she is trying to help, in her own narcissistic, and possibly evil way. You should speak with her, at the very least."

Serena made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort. "When did you become so sensible?"

"It's this deer poop, I tell you. The smell, it alters my mind..." The assassin stood, frowning at his ruined boots. Above him, a bird chirped, nearly dropping its liquid burden onto Zevran's head.

"Bleh, nature. I don't understand the allure, myself. Give me whores and a fine Antivan brandy any day." The elf shrugged, turning to go. "Think about what I've said... perhaps ask your bunny friend for his opinion. He seems like a reasonable sort." There was the crunch of leaves and then just the sound of the river as Zevran disappeared the way he'd come, back along the path to wear the others were resting.

"Maybe he is right, and I'm just being implacable," Serena whispered to the fluffy creature. "She can be quite intimidating and... pushy... but we are friends, of a sort." She sighed, finally coming to a decision. "True forgiveness lies in the eyes of the Maker."

In her arms, the tiny rabbit snuggled up, almost like a child would to its mother, and Serena felt a bit of the tight knot that had been twisting in her stomach since she'd found out about the baby start to unwind.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until that evening that Morrigan approached her again, slipping into her tent after dinner. She heard the witch before she saw her, as Morrigan spoke curtly to the guard standing outside Serena's tent.<p>

"Miss, the Commander is quite busy, you'll have to come back-"

Morrigan simply uttered one word.

"Move."

There was the sound of fabric, and then the she was inside. "Ah, Serena. I-" Morrigan shut the tent flap behind her. She glanced around, as if appraising the tent, perhaps comparing it to her own. The small lantern Serena used to light her map threw deep shadows across Morrigan, making her expression even more indecipherable than usual. "I wanted to speak with you. To discuss last nights events."

Serena looked up from the enormous map she had been plotting to watch as the dark haired girl moved like a shadow across the ground towards her, her golden eyes narrowed.

"Alistair told me what happened-" Serena began steadily. She had prepared what she would say.

"Of that I have no doubt," the witch snapped, cutting Serena off. "Had I known he would be... unable to perform, I would have saved myself the trouble..." She bristled, then seemed to shake herself of some emotion Serena couldn't place. "One cannot simply conceive a child whenever one feels like it, however." Morrigan eyed Serena's stomach, weary amusement now reading clearly. "You being the exception, of course."

"Oh yes, because now would be the absolute best time I could imagine to be having a child." Serena crossed her arms over her chest, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What a perfect stroke of luck."

"Consider yourself lucky they are far enough along that they should contains a soul," said Morrigan softly. "I might not have bothered otherwise."

Serena was surprised at the idea- could Morrigan really have thought to sacrifice Serena's unborn child to the archdemon? But isn't that what she was doing with her own? Serena shook her head to clear the thoughts. It wasn't the time to dwell on these things.

"You made it very clear to me that you wanted this... archdemon baby," she began uncertainly. "Are you saying...?"

"You cannot understand, Serena. As a Grey Warden, you cannot look past the archdemon's corrupted form and see what it truly is- an Old God." Morrigan's face was intense as she leaned on the desk between them, her yellow eyes bright and almost gemlike. "This child will have an uncorrupted soul, it will be pure-"

"Pure evil," Serena muttered.

"Pure power," Morrigan shot back. "Power even _I_ cannot imagine-"

"But how do you _know_?" insisted Serena. "How _can_ you know any of this... that any of this will even work?"

"I know," the witch replied simply. "You... _you_ will have to trust. Or you can continue to pray to a god who has turned his back on your people not once, but twice. It is your choice."

"Do _not _presume to speak to me about my faith, Morrigan." Serena's eyes were narrowed, her voice clipped and brusque. "I'm quite busy, so why don't you just say what you came here to say and be done with it."

There was a long pause where neither of them spoke. "I... this did not go how I had thought it would. I wanted... I just didn't enjoy the thought of you being upset because of me. "I was... I _am_ trying to help."

"I know. It's just..." Serena shrugged helplessly and lowered her voice. "Dark magics and... and demon babies and Alistair... it was all too much. We've all become so close during this, and it just felt... _weird_, is all."

"'Tis true. Friends should... not share men, perhaps."

"Right, exactly. Also, ew."

Morrigan laughed, a dark and husky sound. "Sometimes I forget how young you still are."

Serena made a noise that wasn't quite a snort. "Says the girl who lived with her mother in a hut in the woods."

"Those were such simpler times," Morrigan replied. Her golden eyes gazed into the distance for a moment before returning to Serena. "I heard from the elven girl we are a day behind your brother."

"Yes, Fergus is moving just out of the valley as we're heading in." Serena traced a line on the map before her, her lips pursed. Her worry for Fergus and men he led had been foremost in her mind. It was the reason she had pulled out the map and started plotting routes on it in the first place. "He should reach the outskirts of Denerim by midday."

"And if the darkspawn are there? What then?"

"They would have to move much faster than their current speed shows to match his pace. The horde is vast, and slow-moving, which is much to _our_advantage." Serena shuffled some papers, pulling out another sheet that had a scrawled map of Denerim proper. She traced the path her brother was to take. "Fergus is supposed to head into the tunnels beneath the Dregs and hold the front gates from inside, but..." She frowned, a stray thought coming to her.

"He is not really one to listen," Morrigan supplied, echoing Serena's thoughts.

Serena crossed her arms, a grim smile tugging at her mouth. "Like so many I know."

There was another long silence, though this one was considerably more comfortable, before Morrigan spoke again.

"I could, perhaps, fly ahead. To... assist." The witch shifted, leaning on her staff. "I know you have your little pigeon scouts and whatnot, but there is no mage with your brother's group and-"

"No, no, that's a fantastic idea," Serena interrupted. "Even if you could catch Alim's group, or see if perhaps they've even merged... Yes, that would be perfect." She caught Morrigan's eye, hoping her eyes could convey some of the things she felt. "_Thank you_."

"You would do the same for I," Morrigan said quietly. She gave a curt nod and turned, heading for the tent flap. "I shall see you in Denerim then. Assuming I am not too late, of course." With a quick flip of the tent cloth, she was gone.

Serena shook her head, gathering up her maps. "Cheerful to the very last, that one."


	85. Chapter 85

Chapter 85 – _Hope_

**A/N:** Apologies for the lack of updates. I'll do my best to wrap this up before DA:I comes out this fall.

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><p>The city was their last stronghold in Ferelden, though Fergus was hard-pressed to find any man among him who would openly admit it. His men had been working around the clock for the last three days, reinforcing the gates and weakened walls of Denerim.<p>

Scarcely a group of twenty men when they began, many more had taken up shovel and pick to join their ranks as the city nearly overflowed with refugees. Now over sixty strong, together they'd repaired the West Gate and reinforced the southern wall near the Alienage. Every day more men, and even some women and elves, came forth asking how they could help, what they could do. It was a spirit of community that had long since evaded the capital's populace, though Fergus found himself hoping that it would continue should the Archdemon's horde show before his sister could arrive. Even a pitchfork could slay a darkspawn.

Denerim itself pulsed with anxiety as refugees continued to flood in from villages overrun by darkspawn. Lothering, Gwaren, South Reach, even as close as Dragon's Peak… Fergus watched as women, young children, and the elderly marched doggedly into the city center, setting up tents and bedrolls between the shops of the grand market.

Templars patrolled the city nonstop, and for once Fergus was glad to see them. Their golden armor seemed to spark a sort of inner resilience in many of the refugees, a sense of safety under the watchful eye of the Maker.

"And now we have a Templar for a King," Fergus murmured, slamming his hammer down on a nearby post. Alistair was a great man, he knew, but Fergus had always been one to keep his religion far and away from his politics.

"At least 'e's of the blood, eh? A son of old Maric." A redheaded man was sharpening the posts that would create the bulwark to protect an underground entrance leading to the Pearl. "Aye, I'd rather a templar than some farm hand turned madman."

"And it ain't any king that's gone to kill them darkspawn without no Grey Wardens," another man piped up, strapping another log to the barricade. "It's that woman that's gone save us all, you heard it here."

"What woman?" Fergus set another post in the ground, his curiosity piqued. Did they mean his baby sister?

"Aye, she was here weeks ago, iddn't? Set the city to rights, she did, got that bastard Howe right out—"

"And Loghain!" added the redhaired man.

"Aye, aye, 'im too. I heard she was at Ostagar with the King- Cailan that is, and saw what really happened, in that Loghain killed them Grey Wardens that was killin' the darkspawn. He doomed us, but she and that templar survived somehow, got out, they did. Been runnin' all over the country digging up help for us poor sods." The man shook his head. "You saw them mages, eh? In all them robes? They's from the Circle! When does that lot ever leave that bloody tower?"

The redhead shook his head emphatically. "Never in my lifetime."

"Right then, so they's here ready to do spells and the like, and we got some dwarves too, I done saw them in the market just yesterday, talkin' about building a wall under the city in case them darkspawns dig down… Who'd done thought of that but a dwarf?" The man made a noise that Fergus thought maybe was a laugh as he sharpened another spike.

"That Grey Warden got us all this help, least we can do is finish these spiky… erm—" The man frowned, gesturing at the barricade he had just finished. "Whatever them's are. We ought do our part, eh?"

"Well said," Fergus replied, slapping the man on the back, smiling broadly. He knew he'd owe Serena an enormous hug when she finally made it to the city. "I imagine we have another good hour of light left, men, let's see if we can find those dwarves you were mentioning…"

* * *

><p>The road to Denerim was slow, but Serena's army was making good time. A few divisions of men had veered off the main army to help smaller villages along the Imperial Highway, battling pockets of darkspawn and helping dispose of their poisonous bodies. Serena was riding in the middle of the procession, which all told was about a solid mile long.<p>

Tired from a long night of talking strategy with Alistair, she was riding in the back of a supply wagon with Kallian, who had completely given up on trying riding any horse.

"So were you thinking before or after you kill this big bad archdemon?" Kallian's small feet swung out of the back of the wagon as they bounced along the path, two of Serena's Queen's guard riding large mounts nearby. The tiny elven women pursed her lips, head tilted in consideration. "Or is it Archdemon? I don't even know if it's a proper noun, actually."

"It's an Old God corrupted into a darkspawn… dragon… thing…" Serena replied slowly, looking up from the letter from Fergus she was reading. His group had reached the outskirts of Denerim safely, and his men were setting up traps along the southern limits of the city. Morrigan and Alim were with him as well, beginning to prep the mages who had arrived from the Circle Tower.

"It's quite large, so I suppose it deserves a proper title of Archdemon." Putting down the letter, Serena leaned back. "What do you mean before or after? Before or after what?"

"The wedding," Kallian answered, rolling her eyes. "What else could I mean?"

Serena shrugged. "I hadn't honestly thought of it."

"Isn't that like, a thing with you shem, though? You dream of the big day and all?"

"No, well, most I suppose. My mother pushed quite a bit on it as I grew up, she wanted to find a good match for me and all that, but I was always a bit more interesting in other things." Serena frowned, briefly remembering Dairren and her last night in Castle Cousland. She's been so young and silly back then, even though it wasn't even a year ago. "What about you? Any big wedding dreams?"

"You think there were big wedding to-do's in the Alienage?" Kallian said sarcastically. "With everyone poorer than the dirt we're kicking up behind this wagon?"

Serena opened her mouth to reply, thought better of it and closed it again.

"I was supposed to get married, actually. You remember my cousin Soris? It was going to be a double wedding. My father had found a good match for me- from the Highever alienage, actually… isn't that funny." Kallian held out her left hand, the fingers spread wide. A simple gold band shined on her fourth finger. "My husband, Nelaros, he… the wedding was a disaster."

Serena put her hand over Kallian's, squeezing it gently. "I remember Alim mentioned it…" she began. The mage's story of never seeing a wedding before, his ever-present curiosity, and how Vaughan had come, wreaking havoc. Soris and Kallian had been taken, held prisoner for months, it had seemed. She'd screamed her husband was… "Oh, Maker."

"Yeah, Nelaros… Soris and Nelaros came back to the castle, to try to rescue us. I suppose that's what they were trying to do, anyway. They had one dagger and a bow between them… what a mess. Somehow they managed to get to us. I took the dagger and we got the women out, but Nelaros didn't make it. This is all I have left of him," she said, nodding at the small ring. "He was a good man, I… I didn't really want to marry him, but he was a good man. When Soris and I were down in the dungeon, I thought maybe he got the easiest out… It was luck, really, that Alim came along. And you."

"Vaughan was a horrible plague on humanity," Serena said. "Even knowing what I do, I can't imagine what you went through at his hands."

"Well, he got what he deserved in the end," the blonde replied, turning the small ring on her finger idly. It was one of her rare moments of seriousness. "Thanks to you. I know I must have seemed… well, crazy, that day. I appreciate that you… didn't hold that against me. The months in the dungeon, I just… I knew we'd die eventually, and you and Alim got us out and I have… purpose... now." Pulling her legs up into the wagon, she rested her chin on her knees. "We're going to kill that Archdemon so you can have the wedding I wasn't able to, if it's the last bloody thing I do."


End file.
